


Roanoke

by padalekci



Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Wings, Angel/Demon Sex, Croatoan Virus (Supernatural), Croats (Supernatural), Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Demon Dean Winchester, F/F, F/M, M/M, References to Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), The First Blade (Supernatural), Walkers, Walkers (Walking Dead), twd spn crossover, why am i like this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-01-11 06:03:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18424392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padalekci/pseuds/padalekci
Summary: You’d think that caging the devil would stop the apocalypse from happening.Guess that’s just wishful thinking.on the twd side; Picks up where Negan is first introduced u kno-yeah u probably do. spn side; Starts after Dean killed Death. instead of the dArknEss the gang got a diff version of the croatoan virus.it sAys major character death but i'm not sure yet. tho it is the twd universe kinda so uh. kinda gotta stay on brand. maybe.Caters to the spn side of things. innaccuracies and all kindsa shit are rampant in this.just writing this to keep busy. read at your own risk bc it's truly ridiculous. i don't see many crossovers and wanted it to b a thing mostly due to my brain willing it to be a thing.





	1. me being dramatic; aka eat my ass

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They thought they’d figured it all out; found a solution.

Turns out they were wrong.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 


	2. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He said it as if he couldn’t believe it. Like saying it out loud would make it real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have i been drinking? short answer: yes.  
> welcome to my shitshow i wrote half of this while drunk please guess which half; the forest part or the alexandria part.

It’d been both a blessing and a curse to have the Mark of Cain in the damn apocalypse. Sure, Dean could kill anytime the mark wanted him to, and if he got bit, he wouldn’t become a croat. But that was about the end of the real pros. The con list was longer.

In the beginning, Castiel had refused to leave Dean. finding him every time he left in the middle of the night, never letting him out of his sight. Eventually he gave up and decided to stick around.

It was strange; an angel and a demon travelling together. To the untrained eye, they were just two dudes. Two guys fighting zombies. Yeah, in any other instance it’d be cool. It was the shit they’d tell stories about.

 

* * *

 

They’d run out of human blood weeks ago.

That was how Castiel ended up following a group they’d been watching for days through the woods. He figured if one went missing for a few minutes, no one would notice. Zap him out, zap him back. Dean had made it sound simple.

They didn’t take into account that there were other groups in the area. Or the fact that the people Castiel was following had previously had a run in with this particular group.

That was how Castiel ended up on his knees, lined up with the group he’d been trying to steal from.

 

“Now, now, now” grinned the leader. “This one didn’t show up on our little reconnaissance mission” he pointed the bat at Castiel. “How’d we miss that?” he turned to the rest of his group. “ _How_ did we miss that?” Castiel didn’t miss the slight change in the man’s tone. Or the way the members of his group started shifting on their feet.

“Are we sure he’s even part of their group?” asked someone. The voice was meek.

“Good question! That’s a _damn_ good question.” the leader spun on his heel and looked at the man that was sweating-quite profusely. “Rick, my man” the bat came up, still dripping blood from the two men it’d killed. “He part of your group?”

‘Rick’ looked over at Castiel, whose face was blank as ever. Nothing this ‘Negan’ did to him could kill him. Annoy him, probably, but not kill him. But they didn’t know that.

“Yes” Rick’s voice had an accent.

Castiel was surprised. This man was going to lie to help him? After seeing his friends get their brains bashed in? What the hell was wrong with him? Had he no survival instincts? Good men were a rarity these days. Though Castiel could tell that this Rick was probably delusional.

The rest of Negan’s spiel was served with a healthy side of psychological torture. Castiel was amazed he was completely human. Only people that’d been to hell could dream of such things. But he didn’t have any of the signs. Every day Castiel came across more points to agree with Dean’s favorite saying as of late: ‘ _Monsters, I get, but people? People are fucking crazy_ ’. He’d paraphrased, but that was the gist.

When Negan’s people left, he was relieved. He had to get back to Dean. make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. Like take on a whole pack of croats by himself- _again_. Castiel could only take so much stress in one day. Dean was already a handful.

“Where do you think you’re going?” It was Rick’s voice. Castiel had hoped nobody would notice him sneaking off.

“I have no reason to be here” Castiel replied.

“So you expect us to vouch for you and then you just disappear?” one of the other members spoke this time. The one that just lost her husband. He felt for her.

“I didn’t expect you to do anything of the sort” Castiel was getting anxious now. The angel blade was cold against his skin. He hoped he wouldn’t need to use it, but he’d had to before. People weren’t the same these days. If they refused to let him go-he chose not to think about that. About what would happen to Dean.

“If we didn’t you’d be dead, or worse” Maggie was her name. Her husband had said it-before his demise. Or during. Castiel didn’t know where the line was drawn.

Castiel stayed where he was. Maybe he’d misjudged these people.

Rick spoke now. “How’d you end up here? Grouped with us?” Castiel didn’t like the way Rick’s hand kept creeping up to point at him. He wasn’t well in the head. Castiel could tell by looking at him that he was under immeasurable stress.

Castiel shrugged. “Wrong place wrong time I suppose”

“You _suppose_?” Rick repeated.

“That _is_ what I said” Castiel was tired of these inane questions. “If you don’t mind, I must be off now”

Rick pulled his gun.

Castiel sighed inwardly. Humans and their guns.

“You aren’t going anywhere”

“And why is that?” Castiel gripped the blade in his sleeve.

“What if you’re working with them? A plant?”

“I assure you, my molecular biology is nothing similar to that of such a simple organism”

“Actually, plants are quite complex” the one with the mullet spoke now. Castiel didn’t like him.

“I didn’t ask you” Castiel spat. He almost smiled at the way the man jumped back in surprise.

The others were about to speak, but there was yelling in the woods. Not far away, either. Castiel shook his head. Dean was always interfering.

“Castiel! You better get your feathery ass over here or so help me-” Dean’s words trailed off when he stumbled through the trees at the edge of the clearing. “The hell is wrong with you?” he roared, completely ignoring the group of traumatized men and women he’d just scared half to death to wrap the angel in a bone crushing hug.

“Dean” Castiel held him back at arm’s length “You’re filthy”

“Oh, glad to see you too, dipshit” Dean rolled his eyes. Castiel avoided looking at Dean’s clothes-they were muddy and covered in rotting blood. “Not all of us can just-”

Rick cocked the hammer back on his revolver, bringing Dean’s attention to him instead of Castiel.

“The hell’re you?” Dean asked, reaching for the first blade tucked into the back of his jeans. Castiel pushed his hand away from it, half thinking he’d need to confiscate the blade-again. Though the temper tantrum Dean had thrown made him think twice. Dean with the blade was bad, yet so was Dean without. It was a ‘lose, lose situation’. He’d been paying more attention to the phrases Dean said now. It made Dean inexplicably happy when Castiel used them-in both right or wrong context.

“Funny, was about to ask you the same” the gun stayed level at Dean’s chest.

“Look, we’re leaving now, you don’t need to start any problems” Castiel stated, grabbing Dean’s arm, trying to drag him away.

“You aren’t going _anywhere_ until you tell us who you are and what the hell you’re doing here” Rick was getting frustrated now. He had crazy eyes. Dean saw it too.

“Alright, that’s enough” Dean spun on his heel and grabbed Castiel’s coat. “We’re leaving” he tugged on his sleeve, heading towards the edge of the clearing when a shot rang out.

“Oh, that’s-unfortunate” Castiel stated, looking down at his thigh. The fabric of his pants was tattered in one spot-from the bullet Rick had just shot at him.

“Why’d you do that?” Dean asked, following Castiel’s gaze to the wound-or lack thereof.

“Dean-”

“You shot Cas” Dean stated, as if he couldn’t believe it. Like saying it out loud would make it real or not.

“Dean, it’s fine”

Dean reeled back “No Cas, it’s not fine” he glared at Rick and his group “The hell is wrong with you? Shooting people for no goddamn reason?”

Rick had just been staring at Castiel. Probably waiting for him to start screaming in pain or something.

“Well?” Dean demanded.

“He should be-he should be bleeding” Rick stuttered.

“We’ve broken the camel’s back” Castiel muttered, giving Dean a pointed look. Dean shook his head and pulled Castiel toward the edge of the clearing again. They stopped when they heard the familiar sound of croats, groaning and thrashing their way through the brush.

Dean and Castiel pulled their blades at the same time, standing back to back while the croats came at them from both sides. Castiel could hear the others fighting as well.

“Glenn!” there was ugly crying “Glenn! We can’t leave Glenn!” Castiel looked over and saw the group trying to drag her away from his body.

He didn’t know why he did it. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do it anymore. It brought too much attention. Unwanted attention. Castiel raised a hand and focused on the half dead Croatoans, willing them to burn. Instinctually, he knew everyone would shut their eyes. When he opened his own, the croats were gone, and Glenn was whole again. He hadn’t planned on that. Maybe it was Maggie’s doing. Hope was powerful, especially if the power was already there. He’d only been trying to keep him from being eaten. This group had seemingly been through enough.

“Cas! What the hell man?”

Castiel looked at Dean.

“You _trying_ to blow me away?”

“Wouldn’t have worked with the mark and you know it” Castiel muttered, wiping off his clothes.

“Glen?” Maggie’s voice was shaking, and everyone was staring at him. The steady rise and fall of his chest seemed to hypnotize everyone.

The familiar sound of metal grinding together broke the spell. Rick’s son was aiming at Glenn’s head, ignoring Maggie’s crying and pleading.

“Stop” Castiel stated, drawing everyone’s attention to himself.

“He’s turned”

“He’s not” Dean muttered, glaring at Castiel out of the corner of his eye.

“There’s no other explanation” said the mullet boy.

Dean sighed, walking over to the comatose man before kicking him in the side. _Hard_.

“Time is it?” he muttered, rolling over and curling into his side.

“What the hell did you do?” Rick exclaimed. He had the gun out again. For fuck’s sake.

“You’re really going to point a gun at him after you already shot him once? It didn’t do anything the first time” Dean muttered.

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on” Glenn spoke up, still on the ground, but sitting up.

“You were-you were-”

“Dead” Dean finished for Maggie. “Now he’s not, thank god and all them angels for that one” Dean muttered, glaring at Castiel.

They’d been left with no choice. Castiel knew this. It didn’t stop the twinge of guilt from burning a hole in Castiel’s chest as he erased the memory of Glenn’s death and resurrection from their minds. He replaced the memory of the hoard of croats with more useless talking that wouldn’t make much sense if they thought about it too hard.

“We should be going now” Castiel stated, turning to leave.

“No! You can’t!” Maggie exclaimed, leaning heavily on her husband.

Castiel kept walking, Dean slowly following, keeping an eye on the group, making sure they didn’t try to stop them.

“I know an ally when I see one”

Castiel and Dean both froze. The woman with the katana had spoken. Castiel briefly considered the idea that he’d missed something.

“Michonne, don’t be insane” Rick muttered.

“I know what I’m talking about, Rick”

Castiel turned to face the group. “And what do you have to offer?”

She crossed her arms. “Name your price” her eyes darted between Dean and Castiel.

Dean looked at Castiel. They both knew they needed human blood for Dean’s humanity. He'd been slipping. Castiel knew the signs.

“Blood” Castiel stated.

“Blood?”

“Did he stutter?” Dean asked.

“Just a bit strange is all” Michonne replied.

“No stranger than the world fuckin’ ending” Dean snapped.

 

That was how Castiel and Dean ended up in the back of an RV on the way to Alexandria. They’d been put up in a house at the edge of ‘suburbia’. Castiel could tell that Dean immediately hated it. They’d been in an argument since the door shut, and it only stopped when they heard a knock at the door.

“Yes?”

A shorter woman with thick glasses and messy hair looked up at Castiel. She seemed to be trying to make herself smaller-Castiel knew he looked intimidating. Dean had told him to knock it down a few notches in the better days.

“I’m here to uh-blood” she stated, holding out the cooler.

“How much to you have?”

“Two pints?”

Castiel nodded and opened the door all the way, standing to the side so she could come in.

“Love what you’ve done with the place” she laughed nervously at the devil’s trap drawn on the living room floor on chalk. Castiel rolled his eyes. Humans and their small talk.

“Dean! Get out here” He called.

Dean peeked his head around the door that Castiel knew led to the kitchen. His mouth was full of some kind of food. “The hell you want now?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “We have company” He looked pointedly at the woman. “Are you going to be civil?”

Dean grinned. “Am I ever?”

“This is Dean, I’m Castiel”

“Denise” she sounded terrified. Probably didn’t know what the hell she walked into.

“If you have the blood and the syringes, that’s all we need”

“Uh-hold on”

Castiel looked at her, eyebrows raised.

“I’m the new doctor here” Castiel just gave her the same expression. “I need to learn-whatever procedure you’re doing”

Dean decided that it was a good time to walk into the living room, making a wide berth around the trap. “You aren’t gonna learn anything useful here” he smirked

“Dean” Castiel said it warningly. It’d been too long since his last dose.

“Just tellin’ the truth, Cas”

“Well, if you don’t mind, we don’t get a lot of action _inside_ the walls”

Dean raised his eyebrows. Castiel knew what he was thinking and pushed him into the circle.

“I guarantee you, nothing here is going to be very enjoyable” Castiel muttered.

“But there _will_ be action” Dean grinned. Castiel silently thanked God that Dean didn’t finish the innuendo he’d been planning on blurting out.

“Oh” she said in a small voice. “Wait-Oh!” she turned red and Castiel just stared at her. He could recognize embarrassment.

Dean walked as close as he could to the edge of the trap. “You’re welcome to join us” his voice was sweet in that flirty way he always seemed to bring out at the worst of times.

“Oh- no, I think I’ll-I’ll be going now” Denise blurted, already heading towards the door.

Castiel opened the door and shut it behind her before she could ask any more questions. He was tired of dealing with people that weren’t Dean.

He set the cooler on the hall table and opened it, pulling out a bag of the blood, muttering the purifying incantation under his breath.

“Oh, Cas’s gettin’ serious now” Dean taunted from the circle. His eyes flickered black at the last few words of the purification incantation.

They both knew what was supposed to happen next. Dean lunged away from the blood filled syringe, and Castiel glared. “Don’t make me get the chair”

“Keep teasin’ me like that and I might just let you”

Sighing heavily, Castiel stepped inside the circle, syringe in one hand, the other outstretched towards Dean.

“C’mon Cas, let’s dance” Dean grabbed his hand, trying to do a version of the jitterbug, but Castiel yanked Dean’s arm towards his chest, his eyes glowing with grace as he subdued him.

Dean passed out after screaming and a lot of profanities, and Castiel jabbed him with the needle, pushing the plunger down in one swift movement.

The angel repeated it half as many times as a person would usually do for _curing_ a demon, and Castiel left Dean passed out on the floor. It was safer to leave him half a demon. He could still teleport places, but was human enough to not be _too_ troubled by the things people used to keep demons at bay. Castiel didn’t know how many times they’d gone somewhere only for Dean to end up stuck in a circle. Turns out, more people knew about devil’s traps than they’d guessed. The end of the world will do that, though; makes you lower your expectations.

 

Castiel was reading when the knocking started up again. He glanced at Dean’s slumped form, making the decision to leave him where he was. Dean always said he wanted more sleep. The devil’s trap had already been wiped from the floorboards, and he put the syringe back in the cooler and hid the whole thing in a closet. No one needed to know what they did with the blood. He’d say Dean needed a transfusion or something. It was half true.

“Denise” He stated, looking down at the same woman from before. This time she had a first aid kit.

“Carl said Rick shot you”

Castiel tilted his head. “Carl?”

Denise blinked in surprise. “One eye? Cowboy hat?” Denise questioned.

“Oh, him”

“Gunshot wound?” Denise asked, shaking the first aid kit.

Castiel looked to the street behind her. It was getting dark. Dean would wake soon. He’d been out for some time now.

“I’m fine” Castiel stated.

Denise brushed past him, laying the first aid kit on the hall table where the cooler had been. “Look man, no offense, but I’m the new doctor, and I need all the practice I can get”

Castiel turned around, surprised. She’d just barged in. He didn’t think her capable of it. Denise seemed too timid to do such a thing. “I assure you, I’m of perfect health”

“And what about him?” Denise gestured at Dean’s limp form.

Castiel glanced in Dean’s general direction. “He’s sleeping”

“On the _floor_?”

“It’s been a stressful day for him” _it was the truth_.

Denise raised her eyebrows. Castiel stared back.

“At least let me check the wound”

“Not necessary” Castiel grit his teeth.

“If you bleed out and turn you’ll be hurting more than yourself” Denise argued.

Dean started twitching on the ground-the telltale sign of an oncoming nightmare. Castiel knew what happened after they started, and that he had to wake him. There was no way he could explain to Denise why everything would just fall off the walls without warning. Demonic telekinesis and night terrors did not mix.

“Excuse me” Castiel muttered, walking over to the kitchen to fill something with water. He could shake Dean awake and probably get stabbed, or throw the water at him from afar and not freak Denise out.

“What are you-”

Castiel chucked the water at Dean, ducking back when he bolted awake, first blade at the ready.

“What the _hell_ Cas?” Dean whined, lowering the blade and glaring at his soaked clothes.

“Nightmare” Castiel stated, still holding the bucket.

“Fuck you” Dean muttered, pulling off his jacket and flannel, leaving on the half soaked tee shirt. “Why’s she here?”

“To check his wound” Denise stated, looking at Castiel.

“No need” Dean replied. Castiel knew he was thinking of a lie.

“And why’s that?”

“Cas is a doctor” Castiel almost rolled his eyes at him. “Stitched himself up”

“Really” Denise didn’t sound convinced. “Then why’d they say he barely reacted?”

Dean looked up at Cas. “What’s that thing you have? That disease where you can’t feel pain?” Dean knew that Castiel would know what it was called. He’d read plenty of books in the time after the apocalypse started, most of them useless. Castiel made a note to rub the usefulness of reading the medical dictionary in Dean’s face later.

“congenital analgesia”

“A doctor with congenital analgesia?” Denise repeated. “You can’t feel pain.” she was talking more to herself now.

“Sure is handy” Dean smiled. “ ‘s like he had his own personal cadaver”

Denise was looking at Castiel differently now-he didn’t like it. She had ideas, and he didn’t want any part of them. Dean had just woven a lie that they’d definitely need to keep up with; doctors were scarce nowadays.

“Can I see the wound?”

“No” Castiel stated.

“Cas is real religious” Dean grinned. “Gotta be married to him to let you take his pants off”

Denise looked between them. “Well then, Cas-”

“Castiel” Dean corrected. “Only _I_ getta call him Cas”

Castiel gave Dean a look, which was promptly ignored.

“Sorry, _Castiel_ , would you mind teaching me?” Denise looked hopeful. “To be a doctor?”

“I don’t-”

Dean interrupted. “Gotta win him over first”

Castiel was thankful for Dean’s ability to get people to believe whatever he wanted them to. He considered himself too awkward and unfamiliar with emotions to do anything of the sort.

“And how do I do that?” Denise asked, adjusting her glasses.

Dean grinned. “Well, Cas here is a _sucker_ for pie”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget to fuckin guess which part i was drunk for- the forest shit or alexandria garbage jjj. answer will b revealed in the next fuckin chapter sskaYEET
> 
> comment a yeet or e l s e. 
> 
> a single yeet.  
> pleasē senõr
> 
> i'm postihg this now that i'm starting to hate things in here- ITS The finAl countdOwn


	3. Strange Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t like it here”
> 
> “You don’t like anywhere”
> 
> “I liked the bunker”

The rest of Alexandria’s people moved on with life while Rick and Michonne sat in the kitchen, Judith content to be asleep in Carl’s arms while he paced around the room.

“They’re weird”

“I assume that _we_ would come across strange as well” Michonne stated, looking pointedly at Carl. “some of the groups we’ve come across haven’t exactly been thrilled at the fact that we’ve let someone so young get into the trouble he does” she stated, giving Carl a look.

Rick leaned back in his chair. “Why do you think they’ll be useful?”

“Just trust me on this” Michonne replied.

 

* * *

 

Dean hadn’t left the window all night, watching the street with the blade gripped tightly in his hand. Castiel tried prying him away, but it hadn’t worked. He eventually gave up, deciding to read a book on American laws. It was boring, but Castiel couldn’t find anything else at the moment. Maybe he’d ask if there was a library.

Dawn came and gone, the world outside slowly stirring awake. Dean watched it all unfold, ignoring Castiel’s urging him to try and sleep. It was always like this after the treatments. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, the human blood flooding through his veins, leaving him vulnerable and paranoid. Castiel learned long ago that he couldn’t coax him into a state that wasn’t on edge, but that didn’t keep him from trying.

“They don’t even have patrols”

“Dean, they have walls”

“Walls don’t mean much if someone turns overnight” Dean turned slightly. “Dying in your sleep? Happens all the time”

Castiel snapped the book closed, slightly relieved that Dean was talking now. The book got boring after the first three hours. “I’m sure they have a contingency plan”

“I don’t like it here”

“You don’t like anywhere”

“I liked the bunker”

“You’re the one that insisted on coming with me” Castiel reminded him

“Yeah ‘cause living alone underground would definitely bode well for me” Dean muttered.

Castiel slowly stood up, straightening the trench coat. “Would it calm your nerves to go outside? See how they operate?”

“You sure we aren’t on house arrest?”

Castiel tilted his head. “I don’t see how we could be arrested, seeing as we lack a judiciary system” Castiel earned a chuckle from Dean, and he felt pride in himself. It wasn’t often that happened anymore.

“Fine” Dean stated, tucking the blade into his jeans. “But if I get a _whiff_ of something suspicious, we’re outta here”

“We seem to be the only suspicious ones here, Dean”

“That’s suspicious in itself”

Nonetheless, they ventured outside. Dean jumped at the screeching noise of the beater car that passed by them as they walked towards the innermost buildings, hiding it with a deliberate brush against Castiel’s arm.

Dean had become more touchy feely with Castiel after the world ended. Castiel didn’t fully understand it, but didn’t question Dean. If it comforted him, Dean could do what he wanted. Castiel didn’t mind, even though he didn’t quite understand his own feelings that swirled in his chest at the touch. He should be disgusted, disappointed that Dean was a demon. But that was the way things had to be. Dean wasn’t at risk. The croats had no interest in demons, as they stemmed from the same creator-kind of. If it gave Dean an edge in battle, Castiel wouldn’t turn it down. Dean was human enough most the time. Castiel also knew that Dean’s being a demon helped with the guilt; lessened the blow. It was a mercy that Castiel knew was necessary.

“Jesus christ they’ve got a priest” Dean muttered, staring at the man across the street.

Castiel nodded and kept quiet.

The town was quaint. Manicured lawns and close knit people were one of the main points Dean used when trying to justify their disappearing. Castiel reminded him of his mind reading abilities, and promised to use them. He’d started using that specific power after the world ended. It was life or death that he use them now-not really, but you get the gist of it.

“Castiel, Dean”

The two of them spun to see Maggie from the day before. She still looked sickly, and Castiel remembered the grief that’d been pouring off of her in waves from the day prior. He was glad that she wouldn’t remember any of that.

“Denise tells me you’re a doctor”

Dean looked at her, scanning her face before looking around, facing the opposite direction, watching for croats or other threats as Castiel talked.

“Yes” Castiel nodded. “It came up”

“You didn’t think it important to mention that?”

Dean turned slightly so his body was facing towards the group, but kept his head on a swivel. “Last people tried to keep him hostage and kick me out, so yeah, kinda have to feel your way around with new people” Dean was lying out of his ass about the doctor part; though they had been forcefully separated at a time. It hadn’t ended well.

Maggie looked surprised. “How’d you get him out?”

Dean looked her in the eye before he spoke “killed ‘em all”

Castiel saw surprise flash in Maggie’s eyes but she otherwise maintained her nonchalant demeanor. “You require my assistance?” He asked, tilting his head

“We were on our way to the hilltop when we were captured” Maggie explained. “They have a doctor there”

“I assume you have your own infirmary here”

“Well, yes, but Denise-our resident doctor isn’t very experienced”

“We noticed” Dean muttered, watching the top of the wall. “You realize your hubby’s got his gun on us, right?”

Maggie’s gaze followed Deans, and she frowned.

“We understand” Castiel stated. “Strange men-you have to protect your own”

She nodded. “So do you think you can help or not?”

Dean kicked Castiel for what he said next.

 

The infirmary was, to say the least, sad.

Denise was somewhere else, and Maggie made sure the two of them saw that she was armed and unafraid to use deadly force, should they start something.

Dean posted himself at the edge of the room, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, staring out the window, an ear turned to the doorway to listen. Castiel helped Maggie onto the examination table and had her lay down before touching two fingers to her temple. He healed her and left a memory of him giving her some kind of medication that she’d never recall the name of. He left her passed out and crossed to the window, watching the people pass by. There were more, now that they were closer to the middle of the town.

“Where is she?” Glenn burst into the room. Dean didn’t look surprised. He’d seen him coming. “What’d you do to her” Glenn almost shrieked, rushing towards Maggie, then thinking better of it before turning his gun on Dean.

“She’s resting” Castiel stated. “She asked for our help”

“Yeah? Why the hell would she do that?”

“She’s pregnant” Castiel stated plainly. “In danger of miscarrying”

“She gonna wake up?” Glenn seemed shaken at the news. Castiel knew he didn’t know of the baby.

Dean angled his body towards the window, ignoring everyone else in the room.

Castiel glared at Dean before speaking again. “She’s going to be fine, she just needs to rest now”

“But she’ll wake up?”

“Any second now” Castiel stated. He’d been planning on leaving her passed out for a while longer, to keep up appearances, but if Glenn was going to cause problems, he could alter his plans. He eased the fog from her mind, allowing her to gain consciousness again. “We’ll leave you two alone now”

“She doesn’t wake up-I’ll kill both of you”

Dean snorted, still looking out the window. Castiel grabbed his arm and steered him out of the room, back to the street.

No one bothered them, most kept their distance, taking in Dean’s bloodied clothes and the single weapon tucked into his waistband from afar. Dean watched them with the same weariness. Castiel just looked on indifferently, unsure on how to act.

Castiel felt guilty when he saw one of the other women from the day before. She’d lost her companion the same as Maggie, but he hadn’t come back. It was best that Castiel erased their memory of the whole thing. Raising one man from the dead used up enough of his ‘juice’ and if he did it twice, it would draw unwanted attention. The other angels were still on earth, trying to combat the croatoan virus in their own way-which happened to be smiting everyone that was infected. Dean and Castiel had fled when the angels appeared in Lebanon. Castiel knew they wouldn’t be happy that he was fraternizing with a demon-even though it was Dean.

Dean climbed up one of the turrets to look out at the surrounding areas. Castiel begrudgingly followed. The camp was surrounded by trees as far as they could see, but the land was so flat that there could be another camp half a mile away and he wouldn’t see it.

“Enjoying the view?”

Castiel looked down. It was Rick that’d found them.

“I wanted to thank you-for helping Maggie.” Rick continued. “I didn’t know you were a doctor”

“Neither did he” Dean muttered under his breath, too low for Rick to hear.

Castiel descended the ladder so he wasn’t talking down to Rick. “it’s the least i could do, since you stuck your skin out for me with Negan’s group”

“Stuck his _neck_ out” Dean corrected, still looking out over the wall.

“So you used to be a doctor” Rick stated.

Castiel nodded, not knowing what Rick wanted.

“I was a deputy” Rick replied. “Good to know there’s still useful people around”

Castiel nodded again.

“What’d he do?” Rick glanced up at Dean.

“FBI” Dean answered.

Rick raised his eyebrows, nodding. “A doctor and an FBI agent”

“Yes” Castiel still didn’t know where Rick was going with this.

“Trying to decide if you want us to stay?” Dean asked. Castiel knew that was what was going on as soon as he said it. “Because we don’t”

Rick tilted his head, his hand twitching out like he wanted to start using jazz hands or something, but when he noticed he was doing it, he snapped it back to his side. “Can I ask why?”

“Got business elsewhere” Dean replied, starting to climb down the ladder, seemingly okay with what he’d seen over the wall.

“Can understand that” Rick stated. “Though I don’t think it’d be wise to be alone out there with Negan’s people running things”

“It’d be stupid to stay” Dean replied. “Negan sounds fuckin’ insane”

Rick shrugged. “Safety in numbers”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have many fighters here, can’t see how having untrained people wrapped up in this would help anyone”

Rick glanced around, taking in the men and women going about their days as if the world wasn’t taken over by zombies. “My group joined with the people here, we’ve been trying to train them, but it’s hard-to say the least”

“Can’t teach an old dog new tricks” Dean stated “Give ‘em an easy life where they don’t have to do anything but sit around counting rations or bullets and you’ll end up with some useless people”

Rick crossed his arms and leaned back on his feet, surveying Dean. “You serve?”

“We both did” Dean stated, the lies flowing easily. Though it was a half truth. They’d fought in enough wars and saved enough people to be nominated for a purple heart ten times over.

Rick nodded, his face thoughtful. “You ever train people?”

“Plenty” Dean replied.

“Interested in getting back to it?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” Castiel interrupted, drawing Rick’s gaze from Dean to himself.

“Why’s that?”

Castiel looked at Dean, trying to think of a lie that wasn’t far from the truth.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Cas here doesn’t think I should push myself”

“This have to do with the blood y’all needed?”

“You could say that” Castiel stated, giving Dean a warning look. it was only a matter of time until someone remembered that blood types existed. 

“Can’t hurt to be doing something, Cas.” Dean raised his eyebrows. “Get my mind off _things_ ”

“Is that a yes?” Rick asked.

“Why not?” Dean shrugged. “When you wanna start?”

“Let’s see what you’ve got first”

 

That was how Dean and Castiel ended up outside the walls with Michonne and Carl. Rick suggested they go on a run to the nearest town together, so they could observe Dean’s abilities first hand. It was slow going, as there weren’t many croats around. Michonne explained that they’d been thinning them little by little ever since they started living in Alexandria.

“Walker” Carl called, his gaze on the stumbling figure that crept out about ten yards ahead. It was a child.

Dean had the blade in his hand in a moment, making his way towards it at a brisk pace. Castiel knew the mark was hungry. He sliced through the girl’s neck with ease, crushing her head under his boot in one swift movement. They’d learned that cutting a croats heads off didn’t kill them, though it incapacitated them enough to render them useless. Dean was just going the extra mile. Castiel reassured himself with that, though he knew that it was the mark’s thirst for blood and violence that made Dean step on the child’s head, splattering her brain matter over the asphalt.

Castiel heard the hoard before he saw them-a group of ten or so. Dean turned to look at them, readjusting his grip on the blade before walking towards them. Castiel held his arm out, barring Michonne and Carl from moving to help.

“He doesn’t need the help” Castiel stated softly, his eyes watching Dean’s every move.

Michonne snorted, about to move forward anyway, but Dean had plunged blade first into the croats. He made quick work of them, throwing some to the ground by their clothes, others he stabbed straight through the back of the head, or the front of the neck, severing their brainstems. Dean moved with grace and confidence, like it was a dance to him. In a way, it was. He’d learned it early in life, and you could tell by the way he used the blade like it was an extension of himself. The heel of Dean’s boot broke their skulls with a soft crack, and it was over as soon as it’d begun. Michonne and Carl shared a look.

Dean wiped the blade on his pants, which were still stained. He hadn’t changed clothes. He’d outright refused to wear the khakis the people of Alexandria had offered them. ‘ _Sweetheart, I don’t do shorts_ ’ he’d said, closing the door in their face. Castiel didn’t blame him, he wouldn’t wear them either, it was too dangerous to have skin show-the denim was an extra barrier. If Dean _did_ get bit, Castiel knew it wouldn’t do anything, as he’d put a protection sigil on Dean when he was sleeping a few weeks after the whole thing started. just in case he happened to be too human.

They wandered into a store, and Dean made a beeline for the clothing section, mumbling something about new clothes. Castiel knew he should probably follow, but Dean knew what he was doing, and it was safe. He sensed that there were no more dead in the immediate area. They were alone.

“Where’d he learn how to do that?” Carl asked. Michonne had wandered off by herself, looking for anything useful they’d missed in previous runs.

Castiel shrugged. “Had to learn a long time ago”

Carl didn’t seem happy with the answer, but made himself busy in looking for supplies anyway.

“Bingo” Dean’s voice echoed loudly through the store.

Castiel looked over and saw that Dean was grinning and holding up a pair of bluejeans. Castiel rolled his eyes.

“Here” a pile of black fabric his Castiel’s arm, and he reached out to grab the pair of pants Dean had thrown. “Gotta keep up with the holy tax accountant getup” Dean wiggled his eyebrows, glancing pointedly at the bullet hole in Castiel’s otherwise clean slacks.

“Thank you, Dean” Castiel folded the pants and put them in a bag he’d gotten from someone at the compound.

“Put these in there too” Dean held out a pair of balled up jeans and a button up shirt-among other things. “You think they raided the liquor cabinet?”

Castiel rolled his eyes and kept looking for things that could prove useful. He found a book that looked interesting and added it to the bag.

“How can you read while all this is happening?” Michonne asked, watching him.

“Knowledge is important” Castiel stated. “Keeps me occupied”

“Quit being a nerd, Cas” Dean’s voice called from the other side of the store. “Gemme some Busty Asian Beauties while you’re at it”

Michonne snorted and looked at Castiel, her expression faltering when she realized Dean was serious about the porno mags.

“What kinda name is Castiel?” Michonne asked, changing the subject.

“A religious one” Castiel murmured, picking up a box that advertised a 500 piece puzzle and reading the back. He put it in the bag with the magazines and books.

“You believe in that stuff?”

Castiel let out a short laugh. “Kind of have to”

 

The walk back went without a hitch. There were no more croats, and Dean was in a better mood than usual. Castiel blamed it on the dozen croats he’d killed and the blood treatment.

“So?” Rick greeted them at the gate, looking towards Michonne and Carl.

“Seems capable enough” Carl replied, glancing at Dean before stepping through the gap into the walls.

“More than capable if you ask me” Michonne stated. Castiel knew she was suspicious about how easily Dean had gone straight into the fold of things.

“I guess we have an agreement then” Rick stated, looking towards Dean. “You ready to start?”

Dean shrugged. “Got nothin’ better to do”

“And you’ll agree to helping Denise? Treat the sick?” Rick’s gaze shifted to Castiel.

“That’s the plan” Dean answered for both of them.

“Great” Rick almost grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm only writing this for me so uh, don't expect much


	4. Risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “you guys are like a married couple”
> 
> “Dean and I share a profound bond, but it’s not of a sexual nature”

Castiel had been dreading the day since midnight. It’d been ominous, the grandfather clock striking the gong twelve times. Castiel had been reading the book he’d found the day prior, but found it hard to focus on anything but how he was going to trick people into thinking he was helping them with the supplies they had. He was just going to use his grace to heal those that were in danger of getting worse, leaving those with less severe symptoms to pull through on their own with the help of whatever Denise had on hand. Dean had suggested giving them sugar pills, talking about how the placebo effect coupled with his healing power would help.

Castiel decided that was what he’d have to do.

He went for a walk when the sun started to rise, enjoying the quiet. Castiel had rounded the walls four times when he saw a girl creeping down from the edge of the wall, using metal rods to formulate a ladder. He paused to watch her descend. Was she supposed to be there? Were they being infiltrated? He knew she didn’t look threatening, but after seeing Carl cut down a few walkers, he knew not to trust his eyes.

“Who’re you?” she asked, realizing he was standing there after her feet were flat on the ground.

“Who are you?” Castiel asked. If Dean was there he’d probably tell him to stop answering questions with questions.

“Enid” she replied. “Your turn”

“Castiel”

“What kinda name is that?”

“What kind of name is Enid?”

She just snorted and gathered her things. Castiel watched her, but she’d had enough of him, leaving him where he was to disappear between the houses.

Castiel kept walking until the sun was actually visible. He guessed it was about eight in the morning. Denise hadn’t told him a time to be at the infirmary so he wandered over, figuring it was better to be early than anything else. The door was unlocked, and he let himself in, thinking of how dumb it was that they’d leave their medications unguarded for anyone to take.

“You’re here” Denise stated, standing at the examination table when Castiel walked in.

“I am”

Denise nodded. “Figured you’d sleep more”

“I don’t sleep” Castiel stated. He didn’t. It wasn’t a lie and it gave him a sense of relief; telling someone a true fact about himself.

“I think everyone feels that way” Denise stated.

Castiel didn’t correct her. There was no use in trying to make her understand.

“This is everything we have” Denise stated, opening a cabinet and glancing over at Castiel, who nodded. “It’s not much, so we have to be careful how we use it”

Castiel couldn’t take it any longer.

“We won’t need any of it” he blurted, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he wasted what little supplies they had for his ruse.

“Excuse me?” Denise shut the cupboard.

“I’m not a typical doctor” he stated. “Not even a doctor, more of a healer”

She groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those spiritual types”

“That would be the best explanation, yes”

She stared at him.

He sighed and gestured to the bandage on her finger. “How’d you get that?”

She looked down at it. “I was cooking dinner and cut myself”

Castiel held out his hand. “Let me see it”

She stepped over, holding out her hand, unsure of what was going on. He let his hand hover over the bandaged finger, ignoring her surprise at the slight glow that lit up the room for a moment. Castiel drew back his hand, looking at her expectantly.

Denise unwrapped the gauze from her finger, dropping it to the floor when she laid eyes on the wound-or lack thereof. “What did you do?”

Castiel regarded her slowly. She could out him in moments, probably just get called crazy, but it was something that could happen. “I’m an angel” he stated.

“Yeah, and I’m the queen of England”

Castiel flashed his eyes at her, letting them glow with grace, and she shut her mouth.

“That’s not possible” she stated, mostly talking to herself. “It isn’t possible”

Castiel guided her to sit down and she looked up at him, questions written across her features. He would have to answer _some_ of them. “You can’t tell anyone else about this” he stated quietly

“What do you mean? You can save people!” she exclaimed

“I can’t save anyone if my cover is compromised” he gritted his teeth.

She nodded slowly and sunk down in the chair. “How are you going to help fix people if they aren’t supposed to know?”

Castiel pulled the bag of vitamins from his pocket. He’d found them after ransacking the house he and Dean were set up in. “You give them these”

She raised her eyebrows.

“You give them these and I heal them from afar. They’ll assume it was the pills that made them better”

 

The rest of the day was odd, and Castiel wondered how long these people had survived if they complained about such inane things. A cough? Did these people not realize they were dangerously low on supplies? He only healed those that truly deserved a trip to the infirmary, and even then he just healed them enough to leave a trace of their sickness behind, letting them believe they were getting better. Sickness always faded away in normal instances, and taking it all away at once would draw suspicion. He was relieved when the day was finally over.

“You did a hell of a job today” Denise stated. Castiel watched as her expression changed from pleased to horrified. “Wait, I didn’t mean hell, just-”

“It doesn’t bother me” Castiel interrupted. “If it did, I wouldn’t be here” his thoughts went to Dean automatically.

She just gave him a questioning stare he didn’t reply to.

“Does-does Dean know?” she asked, sitting next to him on the steps of the building. Castiel wanted to enjoy the weather.

“Yes” he replied. “Dean was the reason I was sent to earth” Castiel found a strange sort of comfort in talking about the good days with someone new. He knew he could trust Denise after reading her mind, looking for plans to expose him. He hadn’t found anything of the sort.

“So there’s a heaven.”

“Yes”

“What’s it like?”

Castiel shrugged. “It’s different for everyone” he imagined some of his favorites. “There’s a long hallway of doors and each one opens to a different persons version of heaven”

Denise nodded thoughtfully. She was handling it surprisingly well. “Does that mean there’s a god?”

“Yes”

“Why’d he-” she sighed “Why did he let this happen?” she gestured broadly at their surroundings.

“Some things just need to happen” Castiel stated. “The Croatoan virus was unexpected, but necessary”

“The Croatoan virus?”

Castiel glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “It’s the work of Lucifer”

She raised her eyebrows. “He’s _real_?”

Castiel nodded. “My brother was misguided”

“So is he-is he _around_?”

“He was set free but we forced him back into the cage.” Castiel closed his eyes, tilting his head back to absorb the sun’s warmth-he could feel it if he tried. “Though he’s not the evil that set the virus loose this time”

“This time?”

“The virus has been around for a long while” he paused “Lucifer set it free a few years ago, but we got it under control pretty quickly”

“Why hasn’t anyone heard of it happening before?”

Castiel stilled. “Supernatural occurrences rarely get recognition in regular people’s lives”

“So what’s Dean’s deal?”

Castiel kept quiet.

“What was the blood for?”

“A purification ritual”

“Like-a virginity thing?”

Castiel cracked open one eye and looked at her. She was turning red. “No, it had nothing to do with coitus” he inhaled slowly, closing his eyes again. “Dean is, for lack of a better word, sick”

“Can’t you just heal him?”

“You can’t heal a curse” the words slipped out too quickly for Castiel to realize what he’d said. He figured it didn’t matter much. Denise didn’t know anything of the supernatural beside what he’d told her.

“Can’t you break it?”

“We tried” Castiel sighed. “Many times. But the curse in question is older than I am”

She stilled next to him. “How old are you?”

“Billions of years” he heard a sharp inhale come from her. “I lost count”

“Well, you look good for being ancient”

“I don’t look like this” Castiel gestured to himself. “This is just a vessel”

“You’re possessing someone” she said it slowly

“Not anymore” Castiel felt the guilt as if it was fresh. “Jimmy Novak died long ago”

“What would you normally look like?” she asked

“You remember the chrysler building?”

“Yes”

“That size, but bright enough that if you were to see it, you would die” Castiel said it bluntly.

“Woah” she said quietly.

Castiel opened his eyes when he heard footsteps approaching. It was Dean, who was showered and dressed in fresh clothes. Castiel hadn’t seen him since the night before, which was when he’d disappeared into the shower muttering something about water pressure. He almost looked like the man he used to be, with his cleanly shaven face and his hair cut to the short length Castiel had forgotten about.

“What’s up Doc?” Dean asked, flopping down on the steps next to Castiel.

“We were discussing Jimmy Novak”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Gonna get us in trouble there, Cas”

“Denise is trustworthy” Castiel didn’t miss the eyeroll he received. “We talked about you for a moment”

“Cas, I know we’re friends, but you gotta stop doin’ that-what are people gonna think?” he asked sarcastically, trying to shrug it off, but Castiel saw him scratch at the mark. “How’d your sugar pills work out?”

Castiel was glad for the change in subject and felt relaxed enough to close his eyes to the sun again. “Well enough. Though I will never understand why humans think a blue pill will solve all their problems. We only had orange and red”

Dean snorted, patting Castiel’s shoulder. “That was code”

“How am I supposed to know that?” Castiel asked, opening his eyes again to look Dean in the face. He was turning red from stifling his laughter. “You people never say what you mean”

“Who asked for it?” Dean asked, the laugh clear in his voice.

“That’s a breach of doctor patient confidentiality” Denise stated-she was also red.

“Like that’s gonna matter, c’mon Cas, who was it?”

“He was an older gentleman, seemed insistent that he get it”

Dean burst out into laughter, the sound warming Castiel’s stomach in a way that the sun could never do. Castiel preferred this to the sun any day. “Cas” he wheezed out “Cas, he wanted to _bone_ ”

Castiel just tilted his head.

“You know what I’m talking about” Dean gained some composure for a second before continuing. “ _Downstairs_ ”

“Oh”

Dean just burst into a new round of laughter, clutching at his side, leaning against the angel as he tried to calm himself enough to be able to sit up by himself.

“How doesn’t he know that?” Denise asked, looking to Dean.

“Cas missed the class on human customs before coming downstairs” Dean replied, finally calming enough to be able to sit without leaning on Castiel. He missed the touch almost immediately. He closed his eyes to focus on the other kind of warmth.

“Well excuse me for not being well versed in medicine” Castiel snapped

“I’m not a doctor and _I_ know what the little blue pill is” Dean grinned.

“How was your training session?” Castiel asked, changing the subject from his ignorance in human customs to something he’d been thinking about all day.

“Most of ‘em are useless” Dean stated, leaning back against the steps, readjusting his sleeve to cover the mark. “That Carl kid has potential though”

Castiel nodded.

“Not thinking about slitting anybody’s throat, so you can cool your jets” Dean muttered.

“What?” Denise asked. Castiel had forgotten she was listening in.

“You’re getting me in trouble, Cas”

“You said it”

“You were looking at me with that face”

“My eyes were closed, Dean”

Denise interrupted “you guys are like a married couple”

“Dean and I share a profound bond, but it’s not of a sexual nature” Castiel stated, ignoring the choking noise Dean made and the disappointment he felt at his own statement.

“You gotta stop saying shit like that, man”

“Why?” Castiel opened his eyes to look at Dean’s face. He wasn’t used to how normal he looked just yet. The beard was gone and his clothes were clean. It was a rare sight these days. Castiel wanted to remember it.

“They aren’t gonna know what the hell you mean”

Denise shifted her feet around. “Then what _does_ he mean?”

Castiel looked over at her now, taking in her honest face, deciding it was safe to disclose how he met Dean. “I rescued him from hell”

Denise looked at Dean, who was suddenly _very_ interested in his hands. “Like, hell, _hell_?”

“Yes that one”

“So you can resurrect people” she stated it simply

“Yes” Castiel looked down at himself. “I could, anyway” it was best that she just believe that he couldn’t do it anymore, even though he was at full power. He didn’t want to have the conversation that explained he couldn’t just bring people back, no matter how much they begged. Glenn was a one off.

“Hasn’t been the same” Dean muttered, covering for Castiel’s lie. “Since _he_ died, y’know”

“You died?”

“Many times, yes”

“Is that normal? For angels to just come back from the dead?”

“It seems to be a Winchester thing” Castiel replied. It was a slip of the tongue, calling himself a Winchester, but it didn’t look like Dean cared; he was smiling.

“What?”

“We’ve died over a hundred times” Dean stated. “I have the high score”

Denise gave him a questioning look, and Dean laughed.

“My brother was unkind” Castiel stated. “Gabriel has always been hard to handle”

Denise snorted. “So he just killed you a bunch of times?”

“Sort of” Dean replied. “I don’t remember much of it but Sam-” Castiel and Dean both froze at the name. Castiel wanted to reach out to comfort Dean, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. “-Sam told me all about it” Dean finished hoarsely.

Denise didn’t ask who Sam was, and Castiel was thankful for that.

It’d been months since Sam disappeared. He just left a note one day, not speaking to either of them before running. Dean had insisted on searching for him, but they didn’t make much progress. They didn’t have the aid of traffic cameras and phone companies to track his location. He still wore the warding that prevented the angels from finding him. There was no way to even know if he was still alive. It was part of the reason Castiel had left Dean a demon. If he was human he’d feel the pain in full force. Castiel tried to hate Sam for leaving, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He understood why he did it. It would be difficult to see Dean as anything less than a demon after they’d been hunting them for decades. It was against everything they believed in.

The subject was forgotten when Rick approached, leaning against the railing of the steps. Denise excused herself, heading back inside after Rick nodded at her to leave.

“I see you’re makin’ friends” Dean and Castiel just stayed quiet. Rick was there to ask something. “We were thinking of doing a rescue mission”

“No” Castiel stated. He knew Negan had taken one of Rick’s people. “It’s too risky”

Rick tilted his head in that crazy way of his, like he didn’t believe what Castiel just said to him.

“Wasn’t a question”

“It’s suicide is what it is” Dean muttered, looking out at the street, eyes grazing over the people that were walking together, whispering and looking towards them.

“So we’re just supposed to leave him there to rot” Rick stated. It should have come out as a question, but he’d trailed off towards the end.

“Your people are barely strong enough to take on a croat. They wouldn’t be able to handle someone that could fight back” Dean said it bluntly.

Rick squinted at them.

“If we did it-just the two of us, we could probably pull it off” Castiel stated, ignoring the glare he got from Dean.

“You two think you can take on Negan by yourselves? You saw how many were there that night”

Castiel shrugged. “We’ve done it before” he knew it’d be difficult to pinpoint the prisoner’s exact location after only seeing him for a few minutes, but he could make it work.

Rick appraised the two of them, taking in Dean’s obvious reluctance to look at either of them. “It’s two against two hundred”

“We’ve had worse odds” said Dean. Castiel knew he wanted to be doing something, anything. He half suspected it was because he was convincing himself he’d find Sam in the same place, locked up with Rick’s friend. Dean came around as the idea bloomed in his mind.

“We’re planning on leaving in two days”

Dean shrugged. “We’ll go tonight, then”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave some kudos u coward


	5. Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “better count your fuckin days”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does it make sense? nope. do I care? not fuckin really

They’d made a small show of walking through the gates of Alexandria. They’d zap themselves closer to the compound when they were farther away from Rick’s group.

“This is _stupid_!” Dean hissed, keeping his voice low as they walked down the road, still in view of the people of Alexandria. Dean was struggling to talk himself out of wanting to go on the mission, but had as many reasons to go as he didn't.

“If it were Sam in there you’d have already been in and out” Castiel replied, keeping his voice even.

“And it’d be stupid, but for my _brother_ ” Dean glanced back at the gates “We barely know these people”

Castiel rolled his eyes, a habit he’d picked up from Dean.

 

That was how they talked until they were around the bend and out of sight. Not wasting any time, Castiel pinpointed the soul he’d learned was Daryl, and appeared in the same room after sensing he was alone.

The man scooted away from Dean and Castiel when they appeared. Not surprising after Castiel recognized his soul was dark and twisted-the wounds fresh. This man had endured torture similar to that of hell.

“Daryl” Castiel stated quietly, hearing footsteps in the hallway outside the room.

He didn’t reply, but Castiel saw him duck his head and try to retreat farther into the corner.

“Rick sent us”

No response.

“Great, he’s already fuckin' brainwashed” Dean muttered, walking forward to grab Daryl by the arm.

Daryl wordlessly twisted out of Dean’s grasp, glaring at the two of them. Castiel realized that the man’s eyes were similar to an animal’s. It all hit him when he realized _why_ Rick had been so insistent on getting him out.

“You’re a werewolf” Castiel stated, looking at the man. The signs were all there.

That piqued his interest. He met Castiel’s eyes, still leaning away from Dean, who had stepped back when Castiel said what he did.

“The fuck’re you?” he spat, eyes shifting from Castiel to glare at Dean.

“I’m Castiel”

“ _Sure you are_ ” Daryl grunted, rubbing one of his wrists. “And that’s Sam fuckin’ Winchester” Dean’s shoulder’s straightened at the name. “Or Dean, whichever one” Daryl turned the glare back to Castiel. “dunno if you’ve heard, but the world’s gon’to shit, don’t see how huntin’ my kind’s gonna help anythin’.”

“One, I’m Dean. Two, we aren’t here to kill you, dumbass. Ever seen prisonbreak?”

“And why should I believe anythin’ you say?” Daryl asked, his voice low.

“Because Rick sent us” Castiel stated. “You saw me that night”

“Yeah? So?”

“So Rick knows that if you stay in here you’ll be found out” Dean answered for him. “Or starve to death or somethin”

Daryl narrowed his eyes. “What’s in it for you?”

“Rick’s got his heart set on coming to break you out of here if we aren’t back in two days time” Dean stated, his ear to the door. “And I think we both know those pussies he’s trying to train couldn’t kill a croat by themselves, let alone one of these guys”

Daryl looked between them, searching their eyes for a lie in the dim light. Castiel knew he was listening to their heart rates from the way he tilted his head.

“What’s your plan?” Daryl asked, seemingly satisfied with what he heard.

“We leave” Castiel stated.

“No _shit_. I meant _how_.”

“Like this” Castiel reached out and touched Daryl’s forehead, yanking their bodies from one plane of existence to another, appearing in the clearing that he’d found while scoping out Negan’s compound. Dean would know where he went.

“The fuck’re you do-” Daryl stopped talking as soon as he looked around, realizing they were outside. He’d been crouched on the ground, but climbed to his feet as soon as he realized he wasn’t in the compound anymore. Castiel saw the way he favored his side, and healed him with another touch. “Quit fuckin’ touchin’ me” he harped, taking a step back, shooting a glare at Castiel.

“You were hurt”

Daryl narrowed his eyes and patted himself down, realizing there was no sign of the beating he’d taken.

Dean appeared next to Castiel, looking pissed off. “What the _fuck_ Cas!”

“You needed to learn” Castiel stated.

“And what if I got fuckin’ _stuck_?” Dean was referring to his teleportation skills, which weren’t very impressive for how long he’d been a demon.

“The fuck is he?” Daryl asked, stepping away from Dean, who wasn’t that close to start with. “Is that fuckin _sulphur_?” he asked, nostrils flaring.

“Angel, Demon, Werewolf” Dean muttered, pointing at each person as he said the word. “Sounds like the beginning of a shitty joke”

Daryl let out a dry chuckle, still wary of Dean. “Thought you said you were one o’ them Winchesters”

“Shit happens” Dean replied. “‘m Dean” he held out his hand, waiting for Dayl to shake it.

“Daryl” he took Dean's hand, giving it one shake before drawing back. He was slightly more comfortable now, but not by much.

“Cas here isn’t the best when it comes to manners” Dean muttered, giving the angel a pointed look.

“Sorry I didn’t feel the need for formalities when breaking a prisoner out of a psychopath’s realm”

“Did you really just say _realm_?” Dean asked.

“Alright, I get it, you guys _both_ suck at dealing with people” Daryl interrupted, raising his hands.

“Whatever” Dean muttered, looking out over the compound. “They’re gonna notice you’re gone and I think it’s best we get the fuck outta here before that happens”

Daryl nodded, and Castiel went to touch his forehead again. He leaned back, away from the touch, and Castiel gave him a look that said ‘ _if we don’t leave now, we’re going to be found so put up or shut up_ ’.

“Fine” Daryl muttered, standing still this time. Dean grabbed Castiel’s arm, not wanting to get stuck alone.

They appeared inside the store Castiel had visited with Dean, Michonne, and Carl. Papers fluttered around and the three of them stayed quiet, listening for the dead.

“I suggest you change your clothes” Dean stated, nodding at the clothing section. “If we’re seen they’ll put two and two together” Dean gestured at the sweatsuit Daryl wore. 

“That doesn’t equate to four” Castiel muttered under his breath, looking at Dean.

“This day keeps getting weirder and weirder” Daryl muttered.

 

They agreed that if they went back to Alexandria an hour after they’d left with Daryl in tow, the group would think something wrong. They’d return in the morning.

“We need to get our stories straight” Dean stated.

“Always with the lies” Castiel muttered

“They’re necessary lies, Cas” Dean muttered. “You want them to crucify you or something?”

Daryl sat at the window, a metal pipe gripped tightly in his hands. It was all they’d found in the store as far as weapons went. “I’ll just tell ‘em they kept me in an outbuilding and you guys tortured one of the guards into telling you where the prisoners were kept”

“How’d we evade capture?”

“Started a fire on the other side of the building”

Dean shrugged. “Guess we’ve got our story” he looked over at Daryl. “You’re not hungry or somethin’ are you?”

Daryl just glared.

 

The walk back to Alexandria was long, and they encountered over a dozen croats, or walkers, as Daryl called them. Dean walked ahead, his expression solemn as he killed any walker they came across, sometimes taunting them by pushing them or tripping them with a well placed foot.

“How come they aren’t going after him?”

Castiel glanced at Daryl, surprised he noticed. “Croats don’t go for demons-or angels.”

Daryl snorted, shaking his head.

Castiel reached out a hand and tapped Daryl on the forehead for the third and hopefully last time. “I can ward against the effects of their bite.”

“That don’t make sense”

“It’s not supposed to” Castiel replied. “The devil works in mysterious ways”

“What’s the devil got to do with it?”

“He invented the virus”

“Well ain't that just _great_ ”

Castiel was glad he could understand sarcasm.

“So you’re saying that if I get bit I won’t turn now?”

Castiel nodded. “I don’t know what the bite would do to a werewolf.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

When they reached the gates, Rick was already waiting.

 

They broke off from the group, leaving Daryl to catch up on what he’d missed while he was gone.

Dean almost started dancing when he found the pie Denise left on the porch. Castiel almost couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him while he ate. The noises he made, stuffing his face with an absurd amount of pie. He left crumbs all over the house, since he wouldn’t sit down and eat. He had to pace around, not setting the dish down until it was gone.

“That’s disgusting” Castiel stated, watching Dean lick the pan.

“Shut up, Cas”

 

They’d been arguing over nothing for twenty minutes when the door slammed open. Dean was on his feet in seconds, the first blade drawn. He only relaxed slightly when he saw it was Denise and Daryl.

“They’re here”

Castiel didn’t have to ask who. Everyone knew it was coming. He gestured at Daryl to come inside. “Dean, you and Denise go out and stand with the others”

“Not a good idea” Dean muttered.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They split up anyway. Dean didn’t like it, but he wanted to see who Negan was. Figured he’d see who he was actually up against. He wasn’t expecting to see a mirror image of his father.

He knew it wasn’t possible that his father was alive, but it still shook him enough to trip over nothing as he followed Denise to the others.

He considered sending a prayer up to whoever was upstairs, but figured it wouldn’t count coming from a demon. He did it anyway.

 

“And who’s this one?” Negan grinned widely, pointing at Dean with the bat. “Lucille likes him”  

Dean just stared at him, wondering if he could get away with scaring the guy by flashing his eyes at him. It’d be funny.

“Cat got your tongue?”

 _Oh, so he wants to talk._ “Just wondering why I need to be here for this” Dean replied.

Negan laughed, then stopped abruptly, swinging the bat up and stopping it just before it hit Dean’s temple. He didn’t flinch. “Oh, he’s a tough guy” Negan smiled.

Dean just watched him, arms crossed.

“What? You don’t want to play?” he whined, twirling the bat in his hands.

Negan didn’t get an answer.

“You seem like you need a lesson” Negan smiled, his eyes darting slightly to Dean’s left, where Denise was standing.

Negan swung the bat high, pretending like he was trying to hit a ball, but dropped his arms, switching to bring the bat low to crack into Denise’s stomach. Dean was faster, and for some reason felt like he had to keep her safe. He figured it was because Castiel had taken a liking to her. He felt the sting of the barbed wire cut through his palm, but he caught the end of the bat anyway, holding it still. It’d heal. He almost smiled at the expression on Negan’s face.

“That’s a first” Negan drawled, waving off the men that’d circled around them, silently offering their assistance. “Nobody steals Lucille’s attention like that”

Dean’s hands itched for the blade. Begged for it.

_Blood on your hands. Guts over the asphalt. Do it. Pull the blade. Show him what you are._

-The mark whispered in his ear. He resisted the urge to shake his head.

Negan let go of the bat. Dean readjusted his grip so he was leaning on it like a cane, the wire cutting into his palm, the handle resting on the ground. Dean knew it was the mark pushing him to put on a show, but he didn’t care. “We got a showboater” Negan grinned. “You wanna use ‘er? I’ll letcha” Negan gestured at his own group. “Which one you want?”

Dean scanned their faces. They were all human. He threw the bat back at Negan, who caught it with ease.

“I asked you a question” Negan stated.

“I’m not deaf” Dean replied.

“Just dumb then”

Dean saw red for a moment. He knew it was the mark. But he couldn’t put it off any longer. It’d been too long since he’d actually _taken_ a life. The croats were already dead. The mark was thirsty. He pulled the blade and kicked out the leg of one of Negan’s men, almost grinning when he dropped to the ground, kneeling. The demon stepped behind the man, holding him up by his hair. He was an older man-not a teenager, but not as old as himself. Dean could tell by looking at him that he was going to hell. But that didn’t really factor into any of this. The mark was thirsty. It wanted blood. It didn’t matter whose. It happened fast. He was looking at Negan, and then there was warm blood running down over the asphalt. He’d slit the man’s throat.

No one moved, and then Negan was clapping, laughing like he’d just been told a joke.

“Well hot _damn_ ” Negan sighed. “I didn’t think you’d go through with it”

Dean shrugged and let the body fall forward with a thud. “You asked.”

Negan looked at Rick’s group, smiling like a mad man. The few that’d witnessed Negan smash Glenn and Abraham’s brains in looked terrified. Cas could erase the memory of them seeing two people die and make it one, but the fear and stress would always be there, should they see Negan. They just wouldn't remember _why_. “Rick, where you been hiding this one?”

Rick just opened his mouth and then shut it. He looked at Dean with something new in his gaze. He’d seen what Dean was truly capable of. Just killing for no real reason. No remorse.

“C’mon, share with the class!” Negan grinned. “Maybe I’ll take _him_ with me. Have him train Daryl when we find him”

Rick didn’t say anything.

“Whaddya say? What’s your name?” Negan pointed the bat at Dean.

He didn’t speak either.

“You know, I really _don’t like_ the whole silent treatment thing” Negan reminded Dean of his father in that moment. It’d been something he said to Sam all the time.

Dean knelt down and wiped the blade on the dead man’s clothes before standing and putting it back in his waistband.

“What even is that? I thought lucille was extreme, but that thing?” Negan was talking about the blade. “Let me see it”

Dean didn’t make a move to hand it over. Instead he felt it come loose from its place in his waistband and he spun in time to catch a woman with it in her hand. One of Negan’s people.

“I suggest you give that back before you do something to make me angry” Dean stated, watching her.

She just smirked and held the blade closer to her body, waggling a finger at him like he was a child she could scold.

The mark begged for the blade. Wanted it back. _Needed_ it back.

_Get it back, Dean._

Well, he had to get it now. The mark said to. Who was he to resist? These were obviously bad people. Cas wouldn’t be _too_ upset. It didn’t matter if he _would_ be upset though. Dean could hear the mark screaming in his ears for the blade. He had no choice. It was the only way to get the mark to be quiet.

_I want it back._

Dean moved fast, darting forward and pulling the woman into a chokehold. She struggled against him, and before anyone could stop him, he twisted her head-which gave him a satisfying _crack_ before letting her drop to the ground in a heap, the blade held loosely in her hands. He picked it up immediately. The mark wanted it back; didn’t want them separated for long.

“Jesus _christ_ ” Negan chuckled. “This one’s crazy- I like him” he gestured to his people with the bat, and they moved closer, forming a semi circle around Dean.

Dean laughed. Actually laughed.

“What’s funny?” Negan seemed pissed that he didn’t know something. The tone of his voice gave him away.

Dean continued to laugh. “You think you can take me?” he said it to those surrounding him. The mark's influence made him cocky.

“It’s seven against one” said one of the men in the circle

Dean just laughed.

He kept laughing, even after they were dead. Or maybe it was the mark. It was hard to tell. He couldn't hear the laugh with his ears, just his mind. The mark was being fed. It felt _good._ He’d made quick work of them, they hadn’t paid attention to his feet. Didn’t see the blows coming. Didn’t expect their knees to be broken by a boot, or the blade to move that fast.

Deep down, Dean knew he should stop. Should stop the mark from laughing, but he couldn’t. It just felt _right_. He couldn’t help it.

It stopped when he heard someone yell.

“Boss! Look who I found!” the guy had a scarred face and Dean knew it was from a burn. He was dragging Cas towards the group.

Dean’s grip tightened on the blade.

“He didn’t follow orders” scarface continued. “Maybe we should teach him why that’s-” scarface stopped when he saw the nine corpses. “What the fuck” he muttered under his breath.

Dean didn’t pay attention to scarface. He was looking at Cas. Castiel, the angel that’d stuck by him. The angel he’d come to love. _His_ angel.

Castiel’s face was covered in blood, and Dean could see where it was coming from-the middle of his hairline. Dean felt a surge of anger at the fact that Castiel had to act like a harmless tax accountant instead of the true badass that he was. He felt guilt too, for losing control like this. For killing _nine_ people. He shouldn’t have slipped this badly.

Dean could see that Castiel was looking at him, silently pleading with him to stay calm. He couldn’t though. The mark didn’t have control over him now. It was all Dean; which was much worse. He knew his eyes were black as the night he was born. Anger had that effect on him.

Negan’s group must have learned their lesson, because they drew their guns this time. Dean moved quickly, kneeling down and disarming one of the men he’d killed.

“You think you can take all of us with that peashooter?”

“I only need one shot” Dean stated, leveling it at Negan’s head. “And I don’t miss”

“What makes you think you can get away with that before we kill you?”

Dean cocked the hammer back. “You wanna take that chance with your fearless leader?”

“Alright alright alright” Negan stated, walking closer to his people. Dean kept the gun trained on him. “We can leave the little psycho alone-for now” Negan gestured with the bat as he spoke, walking closer to Dean before grinning. He used the bat to push the gun away.

“Dean!”

Castiel’s warning was too late. Negan had yanked the machete free from his belt and it made contact with Dean’s right hand, sending him to the ground.

“See, I don’t like it when people kill my men.” Negan knelt down. “Usually, I’d kill to prove my point, but I think that if Rick sees one more corpse, he might just _lose it_ ” Negan looked over his shoulder at Alexandria’s leader. “Capische?”

When Negan looked back at Dean, he saw the black eyes. Saw the hate burning behind them. Dean was smiling. “I’m going to kill you” he stated. “It’s gonna be soon, too” Dean picked up the blade with his left hand, ignoring the fact that Negan had cut off his hand the same as he’d done to Cain. _ironic._ “better count your fuckin days” He taunted, smiling widely.

Negan raised his eyebrows. Blinked a few times. Dean kept his eyes black. Negan stood back up, nodding towards their convoy of trucks. Dean watched him go.

Once the gates were closed, Dean collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't write these for them to make sense i write them to be doing something so eat my ass because i also know how absurd this whole thing is. yehaw


	6. Worse Odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want to make a deal”

Castiel was the first to reach Dean’s side, knowing he wasn’t going to die, but still stressed the fuck out. Dean couldn’t just _do_ these kinds of things. He’d grown reckless after feeling real bloodlust after so long.

“Stay back” He barked, noticing the feet shuffling towards him. “Get a knife through their skulls” he nodded at the men Negan left behind.

Dean’s arm was wrapped around Castiel’s shoulder, and he ignored how close he was to the blade. He was mildly worried that Dean would wake and just start stabbing. Denise pulled off her coat, wrapping Dean’s hand with it before standing to follow.

“We can get to the infirm-”

“No.” Castiel said it quietly. “Just follow me”

He started dragging Dean to the house they’d been appointed residence in.

“The hell was that?” Rick was walking backwards in front of Castiel. “We’re fucked”

Castiel looked at Rick briefly before gesturing for him to help carry Dean. “Help me and I’ll explain after he’s under control”

Rick didn’t look happy about it, but he helped carry Dean to the house. Denise got the door, and shut it once they were inside.

“Tell me what the hell’s going on” Rick stated, barring Castiel from moving Dean farther into the house.

Castiel rolled his eyes and shouldered past. Rick was nothing compared to the whirlwind that would be Dean if he woke up without a goddamn hand.

Denise cleared the middle of the room and Castiel set Dean down, walking away to find something to draw a devil’s trap. He didn’t know what Dean would be like when he woke up. It was better to be safe than sorry.

“We should get a tourniquet” Denise stated, looking down at Dean’s arm and the hand in her jacket.

“No”

“What do you mean, no?” It was Rick this time.

Castiel grit his teeth. “Dean isn’t going to die”

“Wishful thinking is still just _thinking_ ”

Castiel spun on his heel to glare at Rick. “Dean Winchester cannot die. It’s physically impossible” He found a marker and went to work, scribbling the sigils on the floor before dragging Dean inside. He ignored Rick’s mumbling, talking about going insane and other things that Castiel didn’t care about. The first blade was thrown across the room, out of Dean’s reach should he wake. Castiel examined the wound. It wasn’t bleeding or healing. Just waiting to be pieced back together. like a piece of steak-it was the best metaphor the angel could think of.

“Here” Denise stated, standing outside the circle. She didn’t fully understand why it was there, but it was good she understood Dean couldn’t leave it. Castiel took Dean’s hand. He ignored how weird it was that Dean just got his hand cut off with a machete. It served him right, losing control like that. He ignored the guilt he felt at thinking such a thing and focused on what he was doing. The closer Dean’s hand got to his forearm, the brighter the mark glowed. It wanted to heal him. To keep the host alive. Castiel was glad it was there, for once. Though he wouldn’t be dealing with this mess, had it not been on Dean’s arm in the first place.

“Do you need like, a needle and thread?”

Castiel shook his head, watching the glow descend down into Dean’s veins, to his hand, the skin pulled itself back together, fixing itself.

“Holy shit” Denise muttered, watching from the edge of the circle, holding her glasses up on her face.

Rick’s footsteps were heard, and Castiel looked up to see that he was staring down at Dean with wide eyes. “How’s that possible?”

Castiel stood up and walked to the first blade. He picked it up and just glared at it; hated it. He tucked it into the pocket of his trench coat before turning to Rick. “You know about Daryl”

“What about him?”

Castiel looked over at Denise, who was entranced by Dean’s arm sewing itself back together. “His _dietary_ _restrictions_ ” he stated, looking pointedly at Denise.

“Yes”

“So you believe that is the truth” Castiel stated. “That it’s real”

“Yes” Rick repeated

“And if I told you there were _other_ supernatural beings?”

Rick tilted his head, crossing and uncrossing his arms.

Castiel shook his head and crossed the room, touching two fingers to Rick’s temple, giving him back the true memories of that night. All of it. Glenn’s Death, Glenn’s resurrection, the hoard. Rick’s mind spun in circles, trying to make sense of what he could remember now. Castiel could see him flicking through expressions like channels on a television.

Denise stepped back, drawing Castiel’s attention. Dean was awake. Just laying on his back, breathing heavily. Castiel noticed that Dean was staring at him.

“What?” Castiel asked, not recognizing the expression on Dean’s face.

“He cut my arm off” Dean stated.

“Yes, he did”

“And you put it back on?”

Castiel just nodded.

“Why couldn’t he have just aimed a little higher?” Dean asked, stretching out his arm, staring at the fading scar.

“It wouldn’t have freed you from the mark, Dean. Just your arm”

Dean laughed weakly at the statement.

Castiel shook his head. “You really shouldn’t have done that”

“Shouldn’t’a let me go out there”

Castiel sighed. “And what would people think if they found us holed up together?” it was an effort to make Dean feel better, purposely referencing the things Dean would say. It earned him a faint smile.

“Where is Daryl, anyhow?”

Castiel stiffened. He’d forgotten about him in the rush to get Dean under control-keeping him from losing his dominant hand. “Uh”

“Go let him out” Dean muttered.

As soon as it was said, there was a loud knocking upstairs. Castiel had insisted he hide in the attic, sealing it with a cloaking sigil to keep anyone from noticing the door and investigating. It’d also locked the werewolf in the room, which was stifling hot when they’d gone up there.

Castiel didn’t waste time with the stairs, he decided that materializing in the crawlspace would be easier. He could keep the door hidden that way, instead of breaking the sigil and reapplying it every time Negan came by. Which, from the sound of things, seemed like it would be soon.

“Get me the fuck outta here” Daryl muttered, glaring from his spot by the window. He’d opened it as far as it’d go. Castiel remembered that Daryl had been kept prisoner- psychologically tortured. He realized he probably shouldn’t have forgotten, but if Daryl was found by Negan’s men they would be _screwed_.

“Sorry, Dean lost his hand” Castiel murmured, materializing back in the living room, this time with Daryl.

“The hell you mean, _lost his hand_?”

Denise looked up, appraising Daryl. “Negan cut it off with a machete”

Daryl snorted. “I always miss the action”

“You’re not even gonna question it?” Denise asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Denise, I’ve been tangling with demons since birth”

“ _Demons_?” Denise looked down at Dean

Dean grinned, waving his hands around. “Surprise” he stated softly. He flashed black eyes at her, and she stepped back, probably not even realizing she was doing it.

“How’s the mark?”

Dean’s eyes flickered over to meet Castiel’s. “Not hungry. Not craving blood or anything”

“Yeah well, better not be after killing _nine_ people” Castiel snapped. “You’re staying in the circle”

The demon propped himself up on his elbows. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, Dean, I am neither giving birth to goats or lying to you” Castiel grit his teeth.

“Nine?” Daryl asked, looking at Rick, who just nodded silently, staring off into space.

“Where’s that Glenn guy?” Dean asked, moving to sit cross legged. “Negan didn’t see ‘im did he?”

Daryl froze.

“He was out on a run today, with Michonne” Rick stated, still staring at a spot on the floor.

“The hell’re you talking about?” Daryl asked, looking at Rick like he had more screws loose than usual. “Glenn’s dead! Saw Negan smash his fuckin brains in”

Castiel sighed. “He was - for lack of a better phrase, resurrected”

Daryl shook his head. “This is fucking insane”

“I’m sorry, Glenn was dead? I thought you said that wasn’t possible anymore” Denise shook her head.

“Cas is wanted by heaven” Dean snapped, looking up at her. “Reckless shit like that’s what’s gonna bring the wrath of heaven down on us”

“Dean, stop being difficult” Castiel muttered. “You can’t expect her to know everything that’s going on”

“Why would heaven come after you?”

Castiel glanced at Dean before speaking. He could feel the glare even after looking away. “The righteous man is a demon now.” he stated “and it’s considered taboo for an angel to deal so closely with one”

“Sounds racist”

Dean laughed at that.

“Righteous man? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Dean was a vessel for the archangel Michael” Castiel stated. “He was meant to be the blade that would kill Lucifer”

“Look how that turned out” Dean snorted. Daryl sat down inside the circle, a full bottle of whiskey in his hand. He took a swig and handed it to Dean.

“You were supposed to kill the devil, huh? Backfire much?" Daryl took the bottle back after Dean took a large swig.

“He was possessing my brother” Dean muttered.

“Tough life”

Dean grunted in reply and looked up at Cas. “You gonna get me a chair or somethin’? My ass hurts”

Castiel rolled his eyes and set a dining room chair inside the circle. “Do _not_ come out of there” Castiel warned sternly.

“Couldn’t if I tried”

 

Rick and Denise left shortly after that, promising to send Glenn over when they saw him. Which happened later than Castiel expected. Dean and Daryl were drunk when Glenn and Maggie knocked.

He opened the door and let them in, shaking his head at Dean’s drunken war stories.

“-and then, Sammy, oh my god, Sammy fuckin’ overpowered ‘im and sent ‘em all over the edge” Dean paused for a second, organizing his thoughts. “It was Sam and Lucy, and fuckin-” he snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Cas! Who was that other guy?”

“Your other brother. Adam” Castiel called, closing the door behind Glenn and Maggie.

“You forgot you had a brother?” Daryl asked, a wheeze of a laugh escaping his mouth. “How the fuck you do that?”

“I dunno, I guess I’m going to hell” Dean laughed. “ _Again_ ”

The two of them burst into laughter, slapping at the table Daryl had dragged into the circle. They’d been playing cards while getting progressively drunker.

“One time- m’brother Merle- he found out there was vamps livin’ in our backyard, didn’t know how to kill ‘em, so he went out and tried actin’ like one o’ them _twilight_ fanatics-scared ‘em all ‘way” Daryl spoke lowly now. “He made sure ‘e watched all the movies ‘fore he went out there”

Dean leaned back in the chair with a full body laugh.

Glenn cleared his throat and the two men looked up.

Daryl leaned towards Dean, his voice a low whisper “S like seein’ a ghost”

They both burst into laughter again, and Castiel rolled his eyes. “Will you two stop?”

“Aw, c’mon Cas! I never getta drink! I think I deserve it! They cut my hand off, ‘member?” he waved the offending arm around.

“What in god’s name-” Maggie stared at his hand. She’d been there when it was cut off.

“Not God” Dean wiggled his finger around. “The _devil_ ” the two men fell into a fit of laughter again.

Maggie looked at Castiel, her eyes wide. He sighed. “Dean’s a knight of hell, I’m an Angel, it’s all very hard to believe, yes” he was getting tired of having this conversation.

Glenn laughed. “You’re joking.”

Castiel responded with a signature blank stare. “No”

“My dream-nightmare-” Maggie started, looking at Castiel “was that real?”

“What was the dream?” Castiel asked. He was a mind reader, but it’d been a long day.

“G-Glenn-he died. Negan killed ‘im” Maggie stated, looking at her husband.

“Oh, yeah, no that was real” Dean answered. He held his hands up to his head and made an explosion noise. “Brains, _everywhere_ ”  

“What are you talking about?” Glenn looked between Maggie and Dean.

“We watched you _die_ , man” Daryl stated, serious for a moment.

“How drunk is he?” Glenn asked, looking to Castiel for answers. He just gestured at the three empty liquor bottles at their feet. It seemed two supernatural beings needed quite a bit of alcohol to get this drunk. “Are you joking?” Glenn asked, noticing the bottles.

“Cas doesn’t know how to make jokes” Dean grinned, blowing air kisses at the angel.

Castiel shook his head and walked to the kitchen. He didn’t know why, but figured he’d find something there. And he did. The puzzle from the supply run sat forgotten on the kitchen counter.

“Cas will you do the magic fingers thing?”

“I don’t think it wise, Dean”

“ _I don’t think it wise_ ” Dean mocked. “Get a load’a him” Dean muttered. “ _Pussy_ ” Dean sang the word, staring at Castiel.

“Stop it”

“ _Pussy_ ” he sang again. 

“Dean” the angel grit his teeth. Dean was infuriating.

“It’s four against one, Cas”

Castiel sighed, waving his hand at Glenn and Maggie as he took a seat at the dining table with the puzzle. He dumped the pieces out, knowing that Glenn and Maggie were viewing Castiel’s memory from that night. It spared them from feeling the pain of grief and death once more. “It’s done, now will you _please_ be _quiet_?”

Dean just grinned smugly and mimed cracking a whip, which made Daryl chuckle.

“So, uh, what’s with the floor?” Glenn asked, changing the subject from his resurrection to the devil’s trap.

“ _Don’t_ go _inside_ the _circle_ ” Castiel stated, looking up at him.

“It’s a devil’s trap” Daryl explained. “Like prison”

“Then why are you _inside_ it?” Glenn asked

Daryl gave him a look like the answer as obvious. “I’m playing _cards_ ”

“What’s with the hand?” Maggie asked, staring at Dean like he grew a second head.

“Glued it back on” Dean grinned. “Pretty handy” he laughed. “Get it? I _love_ puns”

Maggie stepped around the circle and sat down at the table across from Castiel. Wordlessly, she started helping him organize the edge pieces from the middle ones. Castiel gave her a small smile, glancing over at Dean every once in a while.

“Glenn, stop hovering, sit down or something” Maggie commanded.

Glenn shrugged and sat down at the table, but faced his chair away from the table towards Dean and Daryl, who were pouring more shots for themselves.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk”

Daryl snorted. Dean grinned and tipped the glass back, not wincing at the taste.

“Imagine that” Dean grinned.

“Daryl-why are _you_ safe in the circle?”

Castiel glanced up at them. Daryl was examining the cards he’d been dealt, chewing his cheek.

“Daryl?”

He met the kids eyes. “M’not human” he stated quietly”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Maggie was watching the conversation unfold as well.

Daryl just shook his head, knocking back another shot. He gave Dean a look.

“Your buddy here’s a werewolf” Dean grinned.

“What?”

“Howls at the moon, silver bullets, all that” Dean stated.

Glenn just looked at him like he was nuts. “You guys are fuckin’ with me”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You _died_ and you don’t wanna believe in _werewolves_ ”

“Well excuse us for not wanting to believe such nonsense” Maggie muttered under her breath.

“It’s not nonsense” Castiel told her.

“I don’t believe in _witchcraft_ ” She hissed.

Dean turned his head towards her. “Don’t talk to him like that” he warned, glaring.

“And what’re _you_ gonna do?” Maggie taunted.

Dean stood up, his eyes black. He slowly stepped to the edge of the circle. Maggie held her ground.

“Dean, stop it!” Castiel almost yelled. _Almost._

He snapped out of it, his eyes going back to their normal green. Dean shook his head, yanking his sleeve down to cover the mark. He drew in a deep breath. “Sorry” he sighed. “I’m sorry” the demon sat back down, pouring himself another shot.

Castiel looked to Maggie, who was hiding how shaken she was. “I’m sorry about him” Castiel muttered. “He hasn’t been drunk in months”

They went back to sorting the puzzle pieces, and Daryl dealt Glenn a hand of cards. They made small talk about the supernatural for a few hours, working to complete the puzzle while Dean and Daryl worked to finish off the bottle. They said their goodbyes shortly before midnight, and Castiel let them out, promising that they could do it again should they want to. Maggie called it ‘game night’.

Castiel returned to the living room. “Dean, what are you doing?” The demon was clutching his head in his hands, staring at the floor, his elbows balanced on his knees. He didn’t look up.

“I lost control, Cas”

The angel sighed and crossed into the circle, pulling Dean up by his shoulders to make him stand. “It was the mark, Dean”

Dean shook his head, staring at the floor. “I killed nine people today, Cas”

The angel pulled Dean into a hug, knowing it was the right thing to do. He stood like that for a long time, until he felt Dean’s shoulders shake with muffled sobs. And then it was even longer.

 

Castiel had dragged the couch into the circle before Dean fell asleep, knowing he wouldn’t sleep well on the floor. Dean refused to let Castiel move, insisting he stay with him. So Castiel let Dean fall asleep on him, easing the nightmares from his mind before they came on.

The knocking at the door threatened to wake Dean, and Castiel moved as gently as he could to get up and tell them to stop it.

“Can I help you?” he asked, opening the door to see a regular looking man in a polo shirt. He’d cleaned up for this encounter, Castiel realized.

The man tried to sneak a glance behind Castiel, into the living room, but Castiel stretched a hand out to lean against the doorway, blocking Dean from view. “I’m Spencer, I wanted to introduce myself”

“Okay” Castiel stated, moving to close the door, but a hand stopped him.

“And you are?” Spencer tried pushing the door back open, but Castiel was an angel. He was stronger than the human would ever be.

“Castiel”

“That a foreign name?”

Castiel tilted his head. “It comes from the bible.” _Is he serious? Talking about the origins of names?_

“So you’re religious”

Castiel didn’t say anything. He wanted the man to get to the point.

“Who else is in the house? I thought the man from yesterday was staying here”

“He’s sleeping” Castiel stated.

“It’s almost two in the afternoon”

Castiel glared. “He had a rough day, I’m sure you know”

“Yes” Spencer agreed. “Is it true he’s lost his hand?”

Castiel stilled. He would have to either scrub the memory from everyone’s minds or make sure Dean had a scar and that he told them another lie. “I reattached it” he stated aloud.

“Really?”

“Yes”

“So you’re a doctor”

“Are you going to ask me these questions all day?” Castiel asked. “Because I have better things to do”

Spencer laughed nervously, trying to pass it off as coolly as possible. “Just thought I’d meet the neighbors” he stated, smiling. Castiel didn’t trust him. “I live across the street -there” he pointed.

“Noted”

“You know it’s custom here to invite people in”

“Well I’m not from here, am I?” Castiel asked, narrowing his eyes, trying to inch the door closed. It was _so close_.

“You don’t want to call Alexandria home?”

“Just passing through”

Spencer nodded.

“Cas!” Dean called from inside the house. He knew Dean was having a nightmare from the way he sounded.

When Castiel glanced back into the house, Spencer took the chance of pushing the door open all the way, stepping over the threshold. “Was that so hard?” He grinned.

“ _Sam_ ! Stop! _Sam_!” Dean’s shouting was painful to hear.

“I think it best if you leave” Castiel glared.

“I think I should meet this man” Spencer stated, trying to peek over Castiel shoulder. “He _is_ staying in my mother’s safe haven and causing trouble for us, after all”

“Your mother?” Castiel frowned. “Interesting, the way you think the place is yours just because she was your blood”

Spencer frowned back. “Don’t you think I have that right?”

“I think that I haven’t seen you in the days leading up to today, which indicates you don’t _care_ what goes on in your mother’s _safe haven_ until something _interesting_ happens” Castiel spat.

There was a loud thud behind him, and Castiel turned to look on instinct. Spencer shouldered past. “So how’d you reattach the hand?” he asked, stopping when he saw Dean thrashing around on the couch. Dean’s sleeves were rolled down to his wrists, thank god.

Castiel didn’t dignify the man with an answer.

“C’mon, I’m a curious man” Spencer pleaded.

Castiel steeled himself before crossing to the kitchen to get water to throw on Dean. He was better at lying, and he’d been asleep for almost twelve hours. It was time he was woken up. “Do _not_ move” Castiel muttered, glaring at the man, only stepping out of sight when the man put his hands up in surrender.

“Love what you’ve done with the place” He called loudly.

Castiel returned with a pitcher of water to see that Spencer was holding the first blade. Castiel materialized in front of him, ripping it from his hands and shoving it in his pocket again. Spencer didn’t notice his disappearance and reappearance on account of how intently he was staring at the blade.

Castiel dumped the water on Dean and stepped back, making sure he was clear of the edge of the circle. When he woke from nightmares, it was a 50/50 chance he’d either whine or lash out.

“Castiel!” Dean roared, lurching awake. “What the _fuck!_ ”

“We have a guest, Dean” Castiel stated plainly. He shot Spencer a glare, but he was too busy staring at Dean to notice. “Was _very_ insistent that he meet the both of us”

“Well it’s not often that a demon rolls through town” Spencer stated. Both Castiel and Dean wanted to smack the grin off his face.

Dean rolled his eyes and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “And?” he asked

“What? No denying it?” Spencer asked.

“You fuckin’ need something?” Dean snapped, shooting daggers at the stranger.

“Well, yes.” Spencer held out his hand. “I’m Spencer”

Dean made no move to shake the man’s hand.

“I want to make a deal”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo thanx for the kudos brothers.  
> also i almost fuckin died in the middle of writing this chapter bc i hit the vape and then tried singing to the song that was playing and it was bäd lmao imagine dying with half a fanfic written on your laptop I'd roll in my grave.


	7. Wise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re still the same”  
> “The mark don’t care”  
> “But you do”

“Well, you’re shit outta luck” Dean grinned. “I’m not a crossroads demon. I don’t do deals”

Spencer narrowed his eyes. “Really.”

Dean shrugged. “Never took that class in demon college”

“Then what _can_ you do?”

“Whatever I want”

“Then you can make a deal”

“I don’t _want_ to make a deal with you” Dean snapped. “Now get out, I’m hungover and that shirt’s giving me a headache” Castiel glanced at the shirt. He could see what Dean was getting at. It was an awful bright green color.

Spencer didn’t move.

“I said _get out!_ ” Dean roared, shaking the house on purpose.

Spencer turned and hurried out, passing Carl, who was waiting on the porch.

Castiel gestured for him to come in before closing the door.

“Whatever you told my dad last night freaked him the hell out” Carl stated, ignoring Spencer’s being there, following Castiel to the living room. It was deteriorating more and more each day-the furniture moved from its original places, sigils and the traps on the floor and walls, clothes on the floor. It was unlike Dean to leave the place so messy, but they’d been on the road for so long that he probably forgot what it was like to live somewhere. Carl didn’t seem to mind.

“He was off the rails to start with” Dean muttered, splayed across the couch.

Carl sat down in the chair Glenn occupied the night before. “So what’d you tell him?”

Dean shrugged. “He watched Cas put my hand back on. That’ll do it for most”

“He’s not most”

Dean grunted. “How many fuckin times are we gonna have this conversation in a week, Cas?”

“What conversation?”

Dean looked pointedly at Castiel. “You can give him the talk”

Carl raised his eyebrows, looking at Castiel, who was standing against the doorway with his arms crossed. Sighing, Castiel pushed away from the wall and touched Carl’s forehead, giving him the memories he had of everyone’s introduction to the supernatural, including his father’s.

It was silent for a while, Carl sat back with his eyes trained on a knot in the wood floor, thinking about what he’d just learned.

“So Glenn was dead” Carl stated. “And you guys are like, cops for monsters?”

“More like executioners” Dean muttered. “Cas, I’m fine now- will you let me out of this fucking circle?”

Castiel regarded him carefully, not digging deep into his mind, but searching for the Mark’s venomous voice in the folds of his mind. When he found none, he scraped his heel across the edge of the trap, leaving it easy enough to patch if he needed it later on. Knowing Dean, he probably would.

“You’re cleaning that whole thing up” Dean stated, stepping outside the circle. “Everybody knows I can’t leave the circle and if they sneak in to copy it down, I’ll be _pissed_ ”

Castiel knew the logic made sense, so he snapped his fingers, reverting the room to its original state, save for the chair Carl sat in. he’d just have to draw the trap again.

“Can you do that to my _room_?” Carl asked, looking around.

Castiel snapped his fingers again, using Carl’s memories as a reference. “Won’t be exact, since your memories aren’t as detailed as mine” he stated to Carl’s half awed grin.

The smile disappeared quickly. “Wait, _my_ memories?”

“Cas can read minds” Dean stated from the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with a box of sugary cereal. He shoved a handful of dry cereal in his mouth.

Carl looked at Castiel with horror.

“Nothin’ he saw in your brain’s worse than mine” Dean stated, mouth half full. “He don’t understand half of it anyhow”

Castiel went back to leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Dunno about that one” Carl muttered.

“You wanna have a contest?” Dean asked, grinning widely. “I went to hell for forty years”

Carl scrunched up his face. “You’re like, _already_ forty”

Dean held a hand over his heart. “I’m thirty seven”

“Okay old man”

Dean shook his head, making faces, poking fun at Carl. “I got turned into a fourteen-year-old for like a day and a half, so there’s that too” he shook his head. _“Fuckin witches”_

“What else is real?” Carl asked, showing genuine interest now.

Dean shrugged. “Everything you can think of”

“So the devil-he’s real?” Carl asked. “And god?”

“Lucifer is in prison, and God’s awol” Castiel stated.

“God’s _real_?”

Another handful of cereal filled Dean’s mouth. “heard of him a bunch’a times” Dean picked up the conversation from Cas. “Good guy. I guess. dunno, never seen his actual face.”

“What’s he like?”

“Dunno. kinda cryptic from what we've heard. Cas wants to find 'im though" Dean smiled.

Castiel rolled his eyes at Dean’s insistence at talking with his mouth full. “Would you stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Eating while you talk”

“Not like you gave me any food lately” Dean retorted, reaching for another handful. “Why? You want some?”

Castiel shook his head. “You don’t even need to eat, Dean”

“I _like_ eating, Cas”

Carl looked between them. “You don’t need food?”

“Cas doesn’t-hates the way everything tastes, he was partial to burgers for a time, ate like a hundred in a day once” he swelled with pride at the fact. “I dunno how it really works with demons-still new to most of the shit”

“So you haven’t always been a-uh- demon?” Carl asked

“I was human until the world shit itself” Dean stated. “I was a vampire for a day too. And a ghost for a few hours. More than once.”

Carl snorted. “Then why are you still a demon if you like to switch it up so much?”

Dean shrugged. “Can’t die if I’m a demon”

“You can’t kill a demon?”

Castiel spoke up now. “Most demons can be killed with the right weapons. Dean’s cursed, that’s what made him a demon. He has to die in order to become one.”

“So you _died?”_ Carl asked incredulously

“Plenty of times. Cas too”

Cas just shrugged.

“Oh c’mon Cas, you don’t wanna tell war stories to the young impressionable kid? Tell ‘im about the time Lucifer killed you or somethin” Dean lit up. “Or that time you were human and hated everything”

“Do you guys just _like_ changing species-or whatever it is?” Carl asked.

“Hazzard of the job” Dean replied.

“And I thought my life sucked” Carl muttered.

“Life in sucks in general” Dean agreed.

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve killed?” Carl asked

“Had to kill a clone of myself once” Dean muttered, moving to sit down on the couch. “Oh, Cas, remember the Gorilla-Wolves?” he looked to the angel. “All the shit in purgatory was fucked”

Carl just shook his head.

“You want some?” Dean asked, holding out the cereal box.

“I’m good, thanks”

“Suit yourself, kid”

“What about Daryl?” Carl asked.

“What about ‘im?”

“He’s not human?”

“No, he’s not”

Carl leaned back in his chair. Dean regarded him slowly, pushing away the emotions swirling at the back of his mind that reminded him of Sam and a younger version of himself. Carl didn’t get a childhood. He was thrown into the end of the world before he had a chance to experience the things that a kid his age should be doing. Driving, skipping class, getting drunk in the woods, _girls._

“Then what is he?”

Castiel spoke up now. “Daryl is a werewolf”

“So what’s that mean?”

Dean shook the cereal box, trying to get the pieces to one side. “Full on werewolves of london bullshit”

Carl looked over at Dean. “Werewolves of London?”

“Holy shit-you’re as bad as Cas”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Daryl slept on the top of one of the turrets, refusing to be inside four walls again. He’d scrubbed himself clean and then went and dug out some of his old clothes. The leather vest that Dwight had stolen was as good as gone, but he still had his bike, which he decided to keep hidden. It was fine where it was.

When he woke up, Glenn was looking at him, a strange expression on his face.

“Fuck you lookin’ at”

Glenn shrugged. “Thought we could talk”

Daryl rolled his eyes and sat up so his legs were swinging over the platform. “Bout what?”

“What that guy told me…. Is it true?”

Daryl nodded.

“Guess we should start a club then”

“What kind of club?”

“Dunno, supernatural people”

“And you’re supernatural now?” Daryl asked

“Well, I _was_ dead”

The werewolf shook his head. “We’re still the same” he looked over at the houses. “Just know more than others.”

 

Daryl would have stayed up on the turret all day, but he had to eat.

The food stores were sparse at best, and he felt bad for the granola bar he’d taken, but he’d try to make up for it later on.

“That’s all you’re taking?”

“Not hungry”

“Suit yourself”

Daryl grunted in reply, continuing down the sidewalk. He hated everything he saw; the giant bay windows, porches with living plants in pots, the way all the houses matched in some way or another. It was the end of the world and people still insisted on mowing their lawns for a sense of normalcy.

“They’re fuckin’ soft, Cas”

Daryl could hear them talking in hushed tones from across the street.

“Dean, they just want to feel normal”

“Normal? Are you shitting me? They’re fuckin’ insane. Pretending like everything’s just _peachy.”_

“Dean, you just hate regular people”

“Damn right I do! It’s insane”

Daryl huffed air out of his nose, a slight smile on his face.

The angel looked over at him, his eyes plain. It kind of freaked Daryl out how indifferent he was all the time. Were angels even able to show _any_ kind of emotion?

“I gotta get the fuck outta here” Dean kept talking, not noticing that Castiel wasn’t paying attention.

“Dean I’m not sure that’s wise”

“You know what’s not wise?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“Yeah, bet your ass it is, it’s stupid to keep me in here when the fuckin’ mark is nagging me to fuckin stab you in the brain”

Castiel looked away from Daryl to Dean now, a stern look on his face. “Dean, I’m offended you think you could kill me”

Dean stopped walking for a moment, Castiel kept going. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?” he took a few long strides to catch up with Castiel and walk backwards in front of him.

“You’re too attached, Dean”

The demon scoffed, shaking his head. “The mark don’t care”

Castiel looked him in the eye. “But _you_ do”

Dean slowed enough to start walking alongside the angel again. “Yeah well, let’s not find out which one of us is right. I need _out”_

“Well I won’t be going with you”

“Why not?” the demon almost whined. Daryl thought it strange. He was a demon, yet he seemed more expressive than most the people in the camp.

“Because I have other things to do-like find out whether or not Chuck is alive. He's a prophet, and might be able to tell me something about God's whereabouts.”

“So you’re picking finding your dad over me? What the hell, man?”

“Dean, you’re being ridiculous”

“No I’m not! You expect me to go out there by myself? What if I go insane and try to eradicate the entire croat population?”

“Then take the lycanthrope”

The angel’s eyes were on Daryl again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment or drop some kudos u cowards


	8. Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “These are good people”

Dean was only flipping Cas shit about leaving to go save the world. Well. Maybe. The mark would probably _let_ him try and eradicate the entire croat population in one go- _if he really felt like it._

The lycanthrope thing was interesting though. Dean hadn’t pegged Daryl as a natural born werewolf. Seemed like he was one to be bit. But it made sense now, seeing as no one had known Daryl wasn’t human until the two of them showed up. Bitten werewolves typically had a harder time assimilating.

Dean and Daryl stared at each other, still across the street from each other. Cas just rolled his eyes and muttered something about Chuck before disappearing. Dean couldn’t help but feel naked without Cas there with him. He didn’t like being split up more now than ever.

Especially after Sam.

“You heard ‘im” Dean stated, nodding his head toward the gate.

The wolf huffed and walked over. “You take all the orders you get?”

“I’m the one giving orders most the time”

Daryl snorted. They both knew Cas was the boss here.

“Going out?”

Dean looked down at the mullet guy. Eugene. Cas talked about not liking him. Something about not being loyal. He let Daryl do the talking.

“What if Negan comes?”

“Why the hell’s that _our_ problem?” Daryl stated, waiting for the gate to open.

“You don’t think he’ll want to see Dean here?” Eugene asked, moving slowly. “Seems like he’s under the impression he has to convince you to behave after last time”

Dean shrugged, tugging his sleeve over the arm that got cut off. That’d been a strange day, and he didn’t remember most of it. Probably the adrenaline. Or the rage. He didn’t know.

“Won’t matter soon anyhow” Dean muttered.

“You’re planning on killin’ him?” Eugene was staring at him now, hands frozen on the gate.

Castiel’s words echoed in the back of his mind. _He can’t be trusted._

“I’m not staying here long enough to be tamed” Dean replied. The lie was smooth.

Eugene opened the gate and they walked in silence for a while. Dean ignored how jumpy he was. Every sound. Every windblown piece of garbage. It all threatened to set him off.

“You plannin’ on leavin’?”

Dean looked at Daryl. They were walking on opposite sides of the road. “Cas don’t trust him”

“He doesn’t even know the guy”

Dean rolled his eyes. “The dude can read minds, I think he knows what he’s talking about”

Daryl stayed quiet for a while after that. Dean ignored the way his nostrils flared every time the wind changed. He wasn’t going to ask.

Okay, he was.

“What’s it like being the only one?”

Daryl looked over. “Hell you talking about?”

“The only werewolf” Dean stated. “Ones I come across usually have somebody”

“Had a brother” Daryl stated, keeping emotion out of his voice. “Thought you hunters travelled in packs too”

“My brother left” Dean stated. “Cas is only here to make sure I don’t do something stupid”

They kept walking in a strange silence that neither wanted to break. Dean was getting antsy. There weren’t many croats around.

The mark burned into his arm, begging him. Visions of Daryl’s head on the ground flooded his vision. Blood. Real blood. That’s what the mark wanted. The rotting black shit the croats were chock full of wasn’t enough after Negan’s men. It wasn’t enough before, either. Dean had forgotten what it was like to actually take a life. He knew that the croats were just mercy kills. Necessary. Flies that needed swatting.

He didn’t realize he’d stopped walking until he heard Daryl’s voice ahead of him.

“Huh?”

“Said there’s someone in there”

Dean followed Daryl’s eyes.

“Alive?”

He got a nod in reply.

They moved in unison, one on each door. Daryl threw a rock through the window, scaring them towards Dean.

It didn’t take long for the door to slam open, a girl to running out and right into Dean.

“The hell-”

Dean blinked. It couldn’t be.

“Dean?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he thundered. Noise was the least of his concern.

“You aren’t my dad” she shot back, crossing her arms.

“Claire-”

“Why the hell are _you_ here?” she interrupted.

“Where the fuck is Jody?” he asked. His mind was moving too fast. Clair, but no Jody, no Alex. The thought had crossed his mind that she wouldn’t make it, but Jody was tougher than most. He’d hoped she’d made it.

Daryl had been quiet, staying out of sight until now. Seemed that was over now. “You know her?” he rounded the corner, the machete he’d snagged from the armory hanging loose from his hand.

Claire jumped back, an angel blade held out. _Where the fuck did she get that?_ “Who’re you?” she looked between Dean and Daryl. “He one of us?” she kept her defensive stance.

Dean shook his head, willing her to keep her mouth _shut_.

“No” Daryl stated.

 _Thank god_. Thinking about it, there was no reason for Daryl to consider himself one of anything that was the same as Dean. He knew Dean was a demon, a hunter. Nothing else, really.

“Where’s Castiel?”

Dean shrugged. “Off doing Cas things”

Claire rolled her eyes. “What about Sam?”

“Dunno”

“He dead?”

“Not that I know of”

Claire had lowered the blade enough for Dean to be able to grab it. “Hey-give it back!”

“Uh, uh, uh” he held it up, out of her reach. “Where’d you get this?”

“Castiel gave it to me”

“I know _damn well_ he wouldn’t do that” Dean retorted. “Tell me or you’re gonna have more than me to answer to” he was using the voice he used to use on Sam.

She narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms instead of reaching for the blade. “I’ve been traveling with this guy” Dean pushed back his instincts to search out the guy and throttle him. “Not like that” she stated, catching sight of his expression.

He gestured for her to go on.

“Goes by the name of Loki”

Dean hid his surprise. It couldn’t be him.

“He said as long as I had it, I’d be safe”

Dean looked down at the angel blade. The differences were obvious now. He pressed down on the slight groove on the hilt, closing his eyes at the bright glow that always accompanied anything to do with angels. He’d expected it, but it still hurt to look at.

“What the hell did you do?” Claire asked, staring at the archangel blade. It’d grown in length, and the hilt was different.

“Dean doesn’t fall for my shit anymore”

The three of them looked towards the source of the voice, where the shorter blonde had appeared. He looked the same way he always did, but Dean knew he was different. More sure of himself.

“Long time no see, Dean-o”

“Gabriel”

“You know each other?” Claire asked, looking between the two. “And you lied about your name?”

Gabriel shrugged. “We go way back” he looked at Daryl, a silent question on his face, but switched gears. “What brings you two fine lads out here?” Gabriel asked, changing the subject and avoiding saying anything about Daryl or the fact that Dean happened to be  a demon. Thank god. “Didn’t think this was your neck of the woods”

“Cas is on a mission” Dean stated. “His idea”

Gabriel just nodded.

“What are you guys doing out here? Little late to now be making camp for the night” Claire spoke up now.

“Supply run” Daryl stated.

“Yeah” Dean nodded. “That.” He wasn’t about to tell her that he hadn’t gotten rid of the mark, or that he was out to sate its thirst.

“Castiel is okay, right?” Claire asked, looking more worried than he’d give her credit for.

“Yeah, he’s fine” Dean stated. He realized he was still holding the sword. He flipped it in his hand and held the handle towards Gabe, who took it without a question. He made it smaller and slid it into his sleeve. Dean thought about asking him where the fuck the blades even went. Cas would never give a straight answer. He had a hunch it went to the same dimension as his wings.

They kept walking, not talking about where Dean and Daryl were staying. Don’t ask, don’t tell; right? Dean didn’t know if he should invite them back. Didn’t know if he should ask about Jody. About Alex. About anything.

Gabriel didn’t do much killing, Dean and Claire did most of it, he didn’t pretend to be bothered at the violence she inflicted on the croats. It was normal now. Daryl walked ahead of the group, sticking mostly to himself. Gabriel complained about the walking, then the smell, then a lot of other things. He hadn’t changed a bit.

They found some food, a few things that would come in handy, should they need them, and Dean slipped a few cassette tapes in his pockets. One day he’d find a way to play them. Maybe when the world was back to normal. Maybe the world would never be normal. He didn’t know how these people would reassimilate into a society. They were too power hungry. Their survival instincts were too strong now. They were at war, and it was never going to end.

“So you guys got a camp or what?” Claire asked. They’d turned back after finding enough supplies to slow them down enough to be dangerous.

Dean nodded. “Don’t think it’d be smart to stay with us”

Gabriel nodded. “This about that Negan guy?”

“How’d you know?”

“We ran into a couple people a few days ago, said they were Negan. Fucked up group”

Dean nodded. “People are crazy” he sighed, looking around at the ramshackle town. “The leader set Cas and I up with a house. Welcome to stay with us” He didn’t care if he caught flack for bringing people in. He’d be gone soon enough. Maybe sooner than anyone would care to think.

“Might stop by, but I think we might be better staying outside any kinda society” Claire grimaced. “Haven’t had any good luck”

“These are good people” Daryl stated.

Dean shrugged. “Better than most”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been a while but I have finals next week then i'm free for a month until the summer semester starts. hawyee.


	9. Oddly Cathartic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a kill or be killed world.

Castiel didn’t know why he even bothered. God always liked his plagues. This one was a bit odd, though. Seemed there was no cure. No way to abolish the disease since everyone was infected. No matter how they died, they’d turn- if there wasn’t a severed brain stem involved.

Sure, his Father hadn’t planned for _this_ , but he wired everything. He knew what the darkness was capable of. Knew that there was a possibility of it starting this. He’d designed the virus one way or another.

And maybe it was just an elaborate way to trigger the new world into being a thing. There’d been a flood years ago, and that was the last time he’d hit the reset button, but this? This changed a lot. Changed how humans lived. They were to live in fear for the rest of their lives; never experience true peace until death. And maybe not even then, seeing as this new virus warped so many minds that they were bound for hell.

It was a kill or be killed world.

Dean always compared it to purgatory, and even mentioned offhandedly that he enjoyed it. Castiel convinced himself that it was the mark talking. He didn’t know if that was a plausible excuse anymore. Dean was still Dean. Albeit a little more bloodthirsty, but he was the same for the most part. Castiel avoided thinking about what he would be like if he _was_ human for all of this. Probably be guilt ridden and hating himself most days. The demonic presence in his mind lessened that though. Not by much, but Dean was growing weaker and weaker. He’d been through too much to just forget it all, let it roll off his back.

The thoughts tortured Castiel, as he didn’t know why or when he developed such strong feelings for the hunter. It’d been gradual, at first. Now it was always a dull throb in his chest. Dean wasn’t helpless, but every time he seemed to get into trouble, Castiel’s heart would sink; the possibilities flitting through his mind’s eye like a bad movie.

He knew that if anything happened to Dean, he’d never forgive himself.

At first, he’d resented the feelings he’d developed for the man. Wondered how he’d grown so soft that he’d come to care for a human. A human that was destined to be Michael’s vessel. He’d known that he wasn’t to care about what happened to the man, he was a soldier. Follow orders, be good. Get lucifer back in the cage. Well, that happened, and Dean had lived. Castiel found the Winchesters to be similar to cockroaches. They could survive a nuclear war. Dean didn’t take very kindly to the analogy, but Castiel thought it clever when he’d read the entomology book.

Somewhere between traveling to earth and becoming the handler for the brothers, he’d changed. Stopped blindly following orders, started questioning things, voicing his disagreement. Everyone else in heaven had considered it foolish, but Castiel didn’t care. They weren’t around humanity like he was, hadn’t experienced the same things he had. No one understood the emotions he felt. They hadn’t lived like he had.

It was almost blasphemous when he’d refused to return to heaven after the darkness descended. She was there to cleanse the earth of humanity, more or less. Kill all of them. Leave the earth reborn for the next generation. Granted it would take time, there was also the possibility of reversing it. Stopping it all from happening. Undoing the end of the world.

He had to try.

 

* * *

 

Castiel renewed the sigils carved into his vessel’s ribs before taking flight. The sharp sting dulled to a throb, and he knew he wouldn’t feel it in an hour. Didn’t make it feel any better in the moment though.

All around the world, there were croats. It had spread quickly, and the darkness didn’t spare anyone. Entire tribes, isolated on islands in the middle of the ocean were wiped out, leaving only the zombie like beings in their stead. Heavily populated cities like Tokyo and Paris were as good as holes in the ground. A mass grave full of dead-but-not-really-dead people.

The angel didn’t know what he expected. Maybe something to instill hope. _Something._ But there was nothing. No thriving communities of survivors, no safe havens.

Humanity wasn’t making an effort to rebuild. It was like medieval times all over again. Survivors pillaged those weaker than them and made life hell for those not strong enough to fight back. It made him sick to see it. Humans had been thriving since developing a systematic way of dealing with things, but a free for all just set them back thousands of years. Most were power hungry; only worrying about themselves. They reverted back to an animalistic way of living.

There weren’t many concentrated energy spots around the world, but the ones that _could_ be felt had been there for years. God wasn’t going to slip up and make his presence on earth known. He’d been hiding for years. Castiel hoped he’d find a sign of angels somewhere,  but there was nothing. Anywhere that gave off even the slightest indication of heaven’s grace was a bust. Castiel had been hoping to at least be able to find another angel, but it seemed that they stayed sealed up in heaven. The gate was deserted, no one guarding it. But that didn’t matter. There was no way to get in, to communicate with Heaven at all.

Castiel was completely cut off from his brothers and sisters.

God was probably in another universe, or on another planet, experimenting with his newest project. Maybe he was engineering humans to be better. Or maybe he just gave up on them like he had the angels, his children. It was a believable explanation. He’d always been prone to growing tired of his creations and moving on to start another project. Hell, maybe he was writing another story. Trying to figure out what to do with the world after humanity was wiped out. Castiel didn’t know.

He spent time in Alaska, drinking in the cool air and extraordinary views from the top of Mount Denali. He thought about what it would be like to live up there, on the top of a mountain where he could see anyone coming from miles away. The way it created its own weather intrigued him, and he made a note to try and find a book on the phenomenon.

The angel’s thoughts wandered to Dean. Thought about whether or not he would like it up there. He would probably prefer the base of the mountain. The thoughts led him to explore the base of the mountain, where he discovered Wonder Lake.

The water was clear, and ran ice cold from the glaciers. The leaves on the deciduous trees were blood red and were a stark contrast against the dark green of the pines. Sandhill cranes wandered the grasslands. He sat and watched them a while. He wondered whether or not they remembered the world the way it was before. Thought about what it would be like to live like they did. Living to live, not to gain power or anything else.

The water lapped at the shore and the sound calmed him. The gentle sway and creak of the trees added onto the feeling. It was quiet there. No signs of humans at all, besides the signs and the road that looped up and stopped a few yards short of the water. Croats would not fare well here. The ducks and geese swam and dove for the plants that grew on the bottom of the lake, splashing as they went under and came back up for air.

The angel moved on, only reappearing a few miles away, on the shore of a river he couldn’t pronounce the name of. Salmon were running upstream, flashes of red contrasting with the river’s chaotic roil towards the ocean. He thought it sad that they swim all this way to spawn and then die before returning to their home. But that was the natural order.

Dean liked to fish. He'd talked about it for weeks after finding a new rod with a box of lures. Castiel thought about whether or not Dean liked Salmon. Wondered if it was even okay to eat them after they'd spawned. He knew the fish stopped eating after spawning and wondered if that was an open door to health risks; should they happen to eat them. He'd read up on the subject when he returned. Dean  _was_ happy after he caught dinner for them. Mused about living off the land, like a cowboy in the last frontier. He wondered if Dean's talking about the last frontier was what led him to show up there. He brushed the thought off, reminding himself that Mount Denali had been one of his favorite places even before he met the brothers. An explorer's heaven was where he'd discovered it, and it became one of his favorite heavens to visit. 

But maybe Dean's rambling about how cool it'd be to live in such a rough place was what urged him to return. 

Castiel found himself sitting on a fallen tree for what felt like hours, watching the wildlife. He didn’t move much, as he was more interested in observing than scaring the animals off. Weasels and ermines ripped into the dead salmon, paying the angel no mind. Either they didn’t notice him, or they were too hungry to care. Castiel remembered reading about the Alaskan wilderness, which covered the wildlife. Maybe one day he would be lucky enough to see a Lynx or hear a Caribou bugle.

Dean once told him a story from his childhood. For thanksgiving, John Winchester decided that they would take part in a traditional deer hunt. Castiel wondered if the deer in Alaska were the same as down in the lower part of the states, but couldn’t bring himself to remember. Castiel remembered how proud Dean had been when he relayed the story of Sam's first buck, ranting and raving about how they’d eaten jerky for six months. Wondered if Dean would still like to settle down in one place; make a home.

He moved on, this time to a thick forest, where the trees creaked and pine needles cracked underfoot. Quaking aspen whispered in the breeze, almost akin to a dead language that was long forgotten. The wilderness was overwhelming and calming all at once. The possibilities were endless. Not a soul around for miles, just untampered earth.

He walked for what felt like hours, weaving around fallen trees and underbrush, until he reached a small clearing. A creek was nearby, but he couldn’t see it just yet. The middle of the clearing yielded to a small cabin, emblazoned with the National Forest Service logo and the name of the park. It was simple, yet perfect. Cords of wood stacked along one of the outside walls, windchimes singing in the breeze, hung from the eaves of the house. It’d been sealed up tight, supposedly for winter, but no one had returned once spring came round.

The house was cathartic, and he found himself reluctant to leave, though he knew he should. Knew that Dean expected him back. He'd been gone for a long time. but he wasn't going to leave, not yet. 

Castiel found himself sitting in one of the worn out log chairs adorning the porch, staring out at the trees. He could think there. Make a plan. Find out how he was going to try and fix the world, but he couldn’t focus on that, not now. His mind had other plans.

“Dean would like it here” he stated aloud to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a link to a video of Wonder lake; in case you're curious. the video is kinda relaxing and i found it after looking up the lake lmao.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lz0N1zL4IWU
> 
> figured I'd have a short chapter of Castiel's wandering and gay thoughts before getting back to the dark stuff. School started back up for me so now i'm on a decent sleep schedule and have a routine again so I'll hopefully be writing more.  
> This was also a kinda venture into something different. I don't usually have a lot of stuff with no dialogue. this's also like 20,000 words so uhhhh yeet? I think. idk i'm pretty sure that was the word count.  
> hopefully I'll be able to write more tomorrow (it's one am so probably two uploads within 24 hours (5/14/19))  
> lemme know how I'm doing y'all. 
> 
> Also u can fuckin tell I'm an outdoorsy bitch lmao -I'm looking into buying a new side by side so that's another thing that might delay my writing-I'll b zippin around the wilderness erryday. (which reminds me of a story that i'm gonna throw out here bc Moose)  
> My cousin and I were driving around (in a side by side) and we saw this thing ahead of us, and we were like, oh shit the neighbor's horse escaped or some shit. No bitch, It was a fuckin Calf. A goddamn Moose Calf. I was freaking the fuck out because I'm terrified of the fuckers, and u don't fuck with moose. anyway, we're on this trail, surrounded by trees, and couldn't get around it, on the side on a mountain, and no way in hell were we gonna stop and get charged by momma. so this baby just keeps trotting in front of us, having a grand ole time, and all of a sudden we hear her. fuckin momma moose jumps onto the trail in front of us and yeets her kid off the trail and then SHe starts running in front of us, and we sure as hell weren't stopping, so we slowed down a bit, and she just stayed in front of us for like ten minutes, and then she yeeted away and we made it out alive. I'd rather face a bear than a moose, and I've dealt with both. I got viDEO.


	10. Weight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what was the sense in staying alive?

When Dean returned- sans Gabe and Claire- he found that Cas still wasn’t back. Didn’t think it odd, but the fact that he wasn’t back struck something deep inside him. It wasn’t often they were separated nowadays. Never for more than a few hours, anyway.

He settled for sitting at the second story window, gun cocked and at the ready. It was because of the paranoia he’d developed after months of being on the watch for Croats, and before then, monsters and feds. The real ones. He still had their badges stashed away in one of the packs he’d been travelling with, for no other reason than to intimidate anyone that tried harassing him or Castiel. Sam’s was in there too, but it hurt to look at it. Too many possibilities. Too many openings to think about what could have been.

Dean was dragged away from the window by the incessant knocking that didn’t stop when he hollered “I’m coming, cool your damn jets”

He slammed the door open and saw Carl standing there, Daryl staring at him angrily from his seat on the front porch. “What’s with the knocking?”

“My dad wanted me to ask if you and Castiel wanted to join us for dinner”

Dean looked around at the neighboring houses. Most looked empty, the lights off. “I’ll stop by if Cas happens to show up”

Carl looked around. “He’s not here?”

“He’s out”

“Where’d he go?”

Dean shrugged. “Lookin’ fer his dad”

“Ha ha, very funny”

“‘S what he’s doing” Dean replied, shrugging again. You’d think he had tourette’s or something.

Carl pursed his lips. “What makes you guys think he’s not dead?”

The demon cocked his head to the side. “Kinda hard to kill _the_ God.” but the thought _had_ crossed his mind, even after they got zapped onto that plane. Or after Cas got stitched back together-every time. It didn’t make sense that he’d be okay with his creations being wiped out. But then, maybe he was onto new projects. Like the angels. They were once his favorites, then humanity came along. Maybe God grew tired of the human race. They did seem to have a knack for ruining everything. Metatron said he was a writer. Maybe this world was just a draft that he grew tired of.

The rest of the conversation with Carl was short. Basic shit, like where they’d be having dinner, whether or not there’d be pie (there wouldn’t, and that almost made Dean say no right there and end the conversation). Daryl kept his position on the porch, only offering a grunt in reply when Dean asked if he’d be going. He didn’t know the guy well enough to know if that meant yes or no.

Dean was back at the window once again, checking the gate for any signs of activity every few minutes. There wasn’t any. It was almost obsessive, the way he triple checked the gun every ten minutes. Making sure the action wasn’t jammed, that it was loaded, that the magazine had enough rounds. It did; he counted several times.

If Sam was there, he’d be telling Dean to chill out or something. Maybe start a conversation about the waitress at the last diner they hit. But Sam wasn’t there, and this wasn’t a hunt. This was Dean’s life now. Maybe he had a little too much human blood in him from the last treatment, or maybe this was just how he was going to think for the rest of his life. Imagining what he’d be doing if he _hadn’t_ triggered the start of the end of the world.

Sam would tell him that dwelling on the past wouldn’t do much. Wouldn’t do anything but make him more upset.

The clock struck five, he could hear it echo through the house. A grandfather clock that hadn’t been set for years, but Cas had taken it upon himself to rebalance the weights every night before Dean went to sleep. He’d voiced his concerns about the noise, but gave up after the neighbors started doing yard work. The clock’s chimes wouldn’t do anything the noise from the yard work wouldn’t.

Dean didn’t go to dinner at Rick’s home. Just checked his gun again. Wished he had something to listen to. Cassette tape players were hard to come by these days. That was all he’d take, since he’d been collecting tapes since he had to abandon the impala at the bunker. When this was all over, he’d have to get another box to keep under the seat. He tried not to think about what Sam would say about his reluctance to modernize.

The clock chimed six, then seven, on to nine. Dean kept checking the rifle.

Quarter after nine, movement by the gate. False alarm. Another rifle check. Made a note to find something to clean it with when the sun came back up.

At midnight, Cas still wasn’t back.

Dean reset the clock and went to bed feeling empty.  
  


* * *

 

It was the day after that when Dean decided that instead of sitting at the window, he’d take over one of the platforms near the wall. Maybe keep his sharpshooting skills in check. He’d find the time to clean the gun later. Maybe just get a different one. It was just a plain old .30-06. Found it in a hunting cabin a few weeks back. Didn’t have any attachment to it, unlike the pearl handled 1911 he kept in his bag. If he was close enough to think about using a handgun, he’d just use the blade. No use in wasting ammo in this day and age. There’d always be the offhand chance he wouldn’t be able to get more. If he was still living in the bunker, he could just make his own. But he wasn’t.

Glenn didn’t say much when Dean climbed the turret and planted himself on the edge closest to the wall. They just nodded hello and stayed where they were. Maggie was doing something on the ground below; ordering the others about, ranting and raving about the shit on her list. Glenn shook his head every time her voice got louder.

“‘S the pregnancy hormones” Glenn joked, readjusting the rifle strap.

Dean just nodded, a thin smile on his face. It’d been three days, and Cas still wasn’t back. He was barely there, the others had noticed. More irritable than usual, not as talkative. They’d taken to giving him a wide berth for fear of setting him off.

It was a quiet morning, save for Maggie’s yelling about her supply list. She was in the nesting phase a few months early. But Dean wouldn’t know enough to compare her to any other pregnant person he’d met. Thinking back, he was pretty sure the only pregnant person he’d been in close contact with was his mother, and he was too young to remember how her pregnant habits differed from her usual ones. Hell, maybe all her cooking and caring for him was a byproduct of being pregnant with Sam. She wasthe one that taught Dean how to take care of himself _and_ Sam. John was never one to coddle his kids, or even take care of them.

The idea of being around a kid of any kind hit him like a train, and he shut down even more, keeping his eyes on the horizon. If Cas was around, he’d change the subject, keep Dean from spiralling down into a hole of self hatred and pity. Start talking about some book he’d read on a subject no one’d think him to read up on. Bees were his favorite. Dean figured that out pretty quickly. Liked factual stuff, and fiction that didn’t revolve around the gospel of bible thumpers.

Thankfully, Dean didn’t have the time to dwell on the obvious absence of the only two people he cared about in this world. A decently sized convoy was rolling up. Negan’s men.

Dean knew enough to not think about what the hell was going on, place was a shitshow all the goddamn time, no organization besides who was on watch. Whoever wanted to leave could leave, along with whatever supplies they wanted. Easy as hell to hide away some weapons. Didn’t make much sense that Negan was back so soon, unannounced. Maybe Dean should think of adding some guns to the stash outside camp. No one but Cas knew about it.

“Right everybody! Time for us to collect your guns!” a man screamed, slamming the door shut on the truck.

Dean made sure no one was looking at him before disappearing, gun and all. Daryl was almost always in the upper levels of the house. Didn’t jump much at Dean’s sudden appearance, tried not to let his nostrils flare at the stench of sulphur. Dean really hated that part of being a demon.

It didn’t take long for Daryl to get the shit he cared about into his arms and they were off, reappearing at the top of a water tower Dean could see from inside the walls. He was still trying to get the hang of it all, with the whole demon thing. Cas suggested that he focus on places he could see or imagine clearly when zapping himself places. So far it’d worked pretty well. He’d stopped having nightmares about getting splinched like in the Harry Potter movies, which seemed like a step in the right direction.

Dean sent a quick prayer towards Castiel’s feathered ass, telling him not to make any angelic appearances and just act like a normal person should he show up. He didn’t get a reply; not that he was expecting one.

He left Daryl at the top of the water tower, knowing he’d be watching with the binoculars they’d stashed up there a few days ago. This was the plan. Daryl had sat him down and told him that he’d want to know what they’d be doing, should Negan’s people show up again. The attic was out, what with Daryl’s hatred of small spaces.

Dean reappeared in the living room of his house, seeing as he could imagine the details well enough to pinpoint where he was going to be. It was only a few seconds after he appeared there that the front door was pushed in, three of Negan’s men standing on the porch.

“Thought you’d be dead” said one. Dean recognized him from the last time. Great.

“Looks like you’ve gotta try harder” Dean grinned, shrugging. His hand felt empty without the blade, but it was best that it stayed with Daryl on the water tower. Negan might try and take it. That would not be good.

The men wrestled Dean towards the front gates, muttering about Negan’s orders.

“See you’ve managed to sew your hand back on” Negan grinned, waving his men off when they tried forcing Dean to kneel. “How’d you do that?”

Dean just shrugged. Not many ways you can tell a guy that you’re a demon and can’t die.

“Asked you a question” Negan stated, the bat hovering at his side. It was like he was itching to use it.

Dean knew he couldn’t say that they had a doctor, because they’d just take whoever he named. Everyone needed a doctor in this day and age. “Sewed it back on” he grinned. “Always been a bit of a seamstress”  
Nergan just looked at him. Rick was giving Dean that look that made him wonder if he was all there in the head. He was always looking like he was trying to fight the voices in his head.

The men that dragged him to the front gates each grabbed an arm, the third pulled Dean’s sleeve up, revealing mottled red skin and messy stitches.

Even Dean was surprised, since the last time he’d looked at his arm it was completely normal looking. There had to be some kind of glamour. He didn’t bother himself with trying to figure out who it was. Gabe _did_ say he’d be closeby. It only made sense that the Archangel turned Trickster turned God of Mischief would do something like this.

Negan made a comment on getting the arm looked at, hinting at the possibilities of infection and other unsightly things. Dean didn’t reply. The men didn’t make any moves to touch his reattached hand, and he didn’t prompt them to after pulling his sleeve down.

Negan took his sweet time letting the men collect mattresses and guns, making little comments about everything. ‘ _Should rethink who you have in charge of your food_ ’ ‘ _how do you know that all guns are accounted for?’_. All kinds of shit. It wasn’t until they found that they were missing guns that everything went downhill.

Spencer had a bunch of shit squirrelled away, and Dean wasn’t happy about it. Should he had found out about it, he would have just killed him then and there. But he wasn’t the one that found the stash, as he was too busy trying to rack his mind for anything that he could have left in the house. He’d been careful up to this point, making sure that nothing was left out pertaining to the supernatural, and his bag was with Daryl at the water tower. He was safe, for now.

 

 

* * *

 

Negan burned the mattresses and left them in the street. Dean knew he was on a power trip, but didn’t do much about it. Wanted to wait for Cas, but it’d been over a week now. It didn’t make sense for him to just disappear and not show back up to give an update on what was happening. Sure, he was looking for God, but he knew better than to leave Dean alone that long. He could end up turning on everyone and succumbing to the mark. It’d been too long since the last blood treatment. Nothing made sense. It put Dean on edge, forcing him to imagine the worst of the worst happening.

Those kinds of thoughts only led him to think about what he’d do if Cas _was_ dead. If he didn’t come back. All the possibilities drove him to a state of mind similar to Rick’s. A state of constant worry and anger that couldn’t be sated.

It wasn’t until he was heading up to bed-or the place where his bed used to be, that he realized how much he missed the angel. He’d been re-weighting the clock every night, taking comfort in the routine. Maybe that was why Cas started doing it. Or maybe he just wanted to be doing something that could be considered helpful. Either way, Dean kept with it.

It was always late at night when he’d think of something funny that the full weight of how much he missed Cas would hit him. He’d turn, half asleep to start relaying what he’d thought of, only to stop. Cas wasn’t there. No one was. He didn’t have anyone to annoy with his niche jokes that only Sam or Cas would understand.

Dean would spiral from there, realizing that the only two people he cared about were gone. Left of their own volition, seemed like. At least Sam had left a note, been honest about it. Cas just said he was looking for God. Looking for a way to reverse all this. And maybe that was what he was doing. Or maybe he’d decided to give up and just go home, to heaven and face the consequences of rebelling.

The demon would try and go back to sleep, knowing it would be hard to even get there, seeing as he didn’t get much as a human, and even less as a demon. Now that the blood treatments wore off, he wasn’t even human. Far from it. His mind made him imagine the best ways to kill. He could be sitting on the porch, look up, see Carl and Judith on the other side of the street. Images of blood and their intestines strung about would flash before his eyes. The feeling of half dried blood on his hands. The sticky, chalky roughness his hands took on when covered in blood would sit at the edge of his senses. It happened all the time, and that was why he stopped leaving the house. He’d stay cooped up in there day and night, not even bothering to keep watch.

No one was there with him, what was the sense in staying alive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they don't find out that Chuck is god until 11x22 so uhhhh can't mention him yet. 
> 
> I've had writer's block like a mf and thought that the camping trip i went on would help or somethin but it didn't lmao. not really.  
> I dID end up getting drunk which made me write a bunch of ideas down-but none of them really made much sense. except for one, which gave me a good idea on how to end this. 
> 
> also i was watching jibcon10 videos and Misha mentioned salmon dying after they spawn and that freaked me the fuck out since i wrote that chapter before jibcon happened. wAck.
> 
> also know this is short but i didn't see any way to segway to a new thing without a chapter break.


	11. Stuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he was spiraling.

Dean didn’t know why Castiel’s absence bothered him so much. 

Okay, yeah, he did. 

But he was in no way shape or form used to the feeling. Sam had always been close enough to slap since the day the house burnt down. Always been like that. Except for that one time with the whole stanford thing. But that wasn’t important. That was years ago. A decade. More than triple that for Dean, having spent a spell in hell and all. You know. The usual Winchester bullshit. 

It was odd-being alone. Dean had always had someone. Sam, Bobby, Cas-even Dad sometimes. Now they were gone. Dead or awol. It didn’t sit right with him. 

It didn’t seem right that he didn’t understand his feelings, either. These weren’t the ones he could just push away and ignore, either. They kept coming back. Kept  _ bothering _ him. 

Dean Winchester had never had a best friend growing up. Never had the chance to get to know someone  _ that _ well, what with the moving and the whole taking care of Sammy thing. It didn’t bother him. He had a little brother to torture and care for. And a father that held him to the promise that nothing would ever happen to Sam. Watch out for Sammy. S’what he always said before he walked out the door. Never an ‘I love you’ or a ‘be safe’ just, watch out for Sammy. Dean didn’t let it bother him. He didn’t know or remember enough about how  _ actual _ families worked to notice something was wrong. 

Dean didn’t realize that Cas was his best friend until he died. The first time. When he got blown to smithereens by Lucifer. Dean still kicks himself for asking him if he was god. Dude comes back from the dead at full power and the only idea he gets in his mind is that the dude’s god. Stupid. 

He didn’t realize how much he cared about Cas right away. Took him longer than he’d like to admit. Dude rebelled against heaven, killed and went to war against his siblings, all because he saw something in Dean. Something he himself couldn’t fathom. Maybe that was what a best friend did. But then he didn’t think of Cas as his best friend. He was always just  _ Cas _ . 

He thought back on the night Cas was expecting to die. 

> _ “Last night on earth, what’re your plans?” _
> 
> _ “I just thought I’d sit here quietly”  _

So of course, in true Winchester fashion, he took an angel to a whore house. Cas didn’t understand what the fuck was going on, having never been in that kind of situation before, and ended up talking to the women about their fathers and other problems. The angel probably took a page out of Sam’s book, since his younger brother was always trying to convince his birthday strippers to go to nursing school. 

Dean hadn’t paid much attention at first, he’d been too immersed in the look on the angel’s face and the conversation they’d shared before leaving the house. Cas looked like he was going to drown, but Dean left him alone, hoping he’d break out of his shell a bit. That didn’t happen. 

The words echoed in his mind. Cas was a virgin. It was the opposite of what he expected, since he’d always imagined angels as naked people running around on fluffy clouds. They  _ had _ to be getting it on. 

At least, that’s what he figured. 

It bothered him way more than it should have when Cas told him about April. He’d never admit it to anyone, but it stuck in the back of his mind. If someone told him about the situation and he hadn’t lived it, he’d say they were jealous. And maybe Dean was. But he had no business feeling that way. Sure, he had his suspicions,  _ especially _ after seeing the dude get a boner after watching the guy on guy babysitter pizzaguy porn. But Cas never said anything. Neither did Dean, but he was terrified. He’d take an apocalypse any day of the week if it meant he didn’t have to deal with his  _ feelings _ . Gross. 

The whole ‘wallowing in his feelings’ thing was starting to get to him. But he couldn’t escape it. He didn’t want to go anywhere. Didn’t want to do anything. So he didn’t. 

He slept in his day clothes, which made him feel worse. Living in the bunker let him have a normal life. He could wear pajamas; a robe. Drink coffee out of a real cup. He’d almost quit drinking when the world decided to end-or rather,  _ he _ decided to end it. 

Sleep didn’t come easy, and it never stayed very long. Maybe it was the whole ‘demon’ thing, or maybe it was him being paranoid about the things that could happen. He thought about purgatory, how much simpler it’d been. Kill, survive. You don’t kill, you don’t survive. 

Here, well, it was still the regular world. Some people weren’t monsters. They had souls. They still had consciences; buried somewhere deep in their minds. 

Dean Winchester was spiraling, and didn’t know when it would stop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been ten days since i posted and this is all i have but i needed to get this out.


	12. Pine Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s tongue was playing at his lip

 

> “You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I once believed you to be.”
> 
> “Thank you… I appreciate that” 

 

Castiel was afraid to go back. Afraid because if he _did_ go back, he would have to let go of the fantasy he’d been living for the past few days. Or was it weeks? He didn’t know. Didn’t pay attention.

Dean’s prayers had confused him. The short night terrors he’d had confused the angel even more. They seemed to be regular dreams, but he could always feel the emotion behind them. Sometimes he thought about dream walking in Dean’s mind, playing along as himself, but he wouldn’t dream of doing that. Of invading Dean’s most private thoughts.

He’d changed.

But so had Dean.

Since Castiel left, the urgency behind his friend’s voice had gotten worse. Stronger. But it wasn’t because they were in danger, no it was something else. Something he didn’t recognize. Not from Dean, at least.

Something was eating away at him. It grew worse with the nightmares. Castiel could feel it. Hear it. His name was often mentioned in the dreams. The emotion would bleed through the bond, send jolts of emotion through Castiel’s own being. He didn’t know what to make of it. It hurt, so he decided to stay away. If Dean was angry, he’d let him stew and take some time to get over it.

 

It only got worse.

 

When the angel returned, the moon was hanging in the sky. He stood outside the gates and watched it a while. He didn’t want to just burst in on Dean. Especially if he was angry. And from the emotions flooding his senses, Dean was feeling even worse than he’d let on in the dreams and prayers. The bond he’d inadvertently created in Hell was a blessing and a curse in these situations.

The moon didn’t calm him down as much as he’d liked. Just made him feel like he was completely alone in the world, even with the itching at the back of his mind that told him Dean was close. There was something missing.

The next time the angel moved, he was on the porch. Dean was alone, he could tell that from listening closely. Souls tended to make noise, and there were none louder than Dean’s, even if he was tainted by Hell. Castiel found that his hand was frozen in place at the door. He couldn’t force himself to knock.

Turns out, he didn’t have to.

Dean almost ripped the door off the hinges, first blade in hand and at the ready.

“Cas?” he squinted out at the angel, the blade lowering slightly, then all the way, damn near falling out of his hand to the floor.

“Hello Dean” he blinked a few times. The demon face still stared back at him, but it looked more human than it had in months. Dean’s soul was leaking through, forcing the embers to cool down; show the righteous man’s true colors; a wonderful green and white mixture that reminded Castiel of the snow capped pine trees in Alaska.

They stared at each other for a few moments. Castiel was afraid to move. The emotions rolling off Dean were suffocating, and the longer he stood there on the porch, the brighter Dean’s soul grew. Castiel had gotten used to ignoring the dull glow of the demon face. There were no souls brighter than Dean’s in this hellish world, they’d all been tainted in some way. He resisted the urge to squint, now that the glow was back.

Dean was the first to move.

Castiel almost leapt out the way, still weary of the blade, but he relaxed once Dean’s arms closed around his shoulders. It was a hug, and Castiel relished in it, until Dean pulled away, looking up and down the street, rubbing his face.

“We should get inside” his voice was even. Plain. But Castiel knew he was being paranoid about intruders. People watching from their darkened windows. There was just enough moonlight to illuminate the street.

Castiel nodded and waited for Dean to go back inside; but he didn’t move, he was just standing there, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What is it, Dean?”

Dean looked up, eyebrows raised, looking around until he realized he was the reason they hadn’t gone into the house. He smiled, sheepish, and stepped backwards over the threshold, one hand holding the doorknob. Castiel scraped his shoes off on the worn welcome mat and stepped inside, willing himself to not cringe at the loud slam of the door behind him. He’d gotten used to silence.

“I need’a ask you something” Dean’s voice was small, almost like a scolded child. Like he was afraid he’d get the answer he didn’t want.

Castiel turned to face him. “What is it?” the angel took in how Dean was slowly sinking into himself, like he was dreading something. “Do you want me to go?” he asked, wondering if the sudden change in Dean’s demeanor was because of his being there.

Dean looked up, an almost panicked expression on his face. “What? No! Of course not!”

“Then what is it?”

Dean slumped his shoulders again. Put the blade in a drawer. Closed it without staring at it for too long. That was a first. “Why did you leave?” Dean’s eyes were on the drawer he’d just closed, and they looked to be burning a hole in the handle. Castiel knew this to be impossible, but it was an analogy he’d picked up.

“I told you I was looking for God. For a way to fix this” Castiel tilted his head. “Why do you ask?”

Dean shrugged, shuffling his feet. The drawer would have burst into flames by now-if it was possible.

Castiel huffed air through his nose and turned to go toward the kitchen. His hands were filthy. He’d tried staying clean, but sometimes he’d find something and feel the need to pick it up. Wonder where the last hands to touch the object happened to end up.

Dean followed, a little too close. Almost knocked the angel over when he stopped at the sink; ran the faucet.

“So you didn’t leave because of what I done?”

Castiel held himself back from correcting his grammar. “No, I’d never do that”

Dean didn’t seem to relax much, but his shoulders _did_ lower half an inch. Castiel always noticed these things when it came to Dean.

The angel reached for the soap. There wasn’t any. He went without. The water was cold.

Dean didn’t speak.

“What is it you really want to ask me, Dean?” The angel didn’t look up from the sink.

Dean still didn’t speak. Just leaned against the counter opposite the sink, an awkward feat, since he was so tall. Castiel didn’t have to look to know that he was crossing his arms and staring at something in the kitchen. He knew the Winchester well enough to imagine it without seeing.

Castiel turned the faucet off. Wiped his hands on his pants. They were clean enough. He turned to Dean, raised his eyebrows. Leaned against the counter to mimic Dean.

“Why didn’t you come back?”

The angel tilted his head. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Dean blew air out through his nose. “Sooner” he stated. “I meant sooner”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to come back” Castiel stated, eyes slightly narrowed.

The demon crossed his arms tighter around himself. “And what gave you that idea?”

“Your dreams”

Dean looked like Castiel had just stabbed him in the stomach, the way his face twisted. But then it was back to that poker face that barely fooled Castiel. “You spied on me?”

“No” Castiel shook his head. “I’d never do that”

Dean just stared. Waiting for an explanation.

“When I pulled you from hell, it created an emotional bond”

He was still waiting for more of an explanation.

“I can feel your emotions when they’re at their strongest” Castiel stated. “I’d grown to filter it out, but after I left, the barrier seemed to disintegrate.”

“And why do you think that is?” Dean asked, somewhat nervous.

“While I was looking for God-” It was time for the angel to avoid eye contact. His eyes found a stain on the wood floors. “I spent some time alone, just traveling, thinking”

“About?”

“What I want out of my life”

Castiel could feel the stress rolling off of Dean in waves. Even after rebuilding the wall that’d blocked out those feelings. There was a twinge of hope mixed in as well, but it was gone as soon as it’d come when Castiel met Dean’s gaze again.

Dean’s tongue was playing at his bottom lip, a nervous tick. “And what would that be?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its my birthday and uhhhh felt like posting  
> also kinda forgot about writing for a while bc i bought myself an early birthday present and i've been enjoying fucking with that. RZRs are fun. I'm broke now.
> 
> next chapter is literally seven google doc pages worth of smut i need to go to church or something I'm  
> there's some other shit in there that's kind of important ig? idk its mostly porn read that at yer own risk.


	13. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas was a damn good kisser.

 

 

> **Each seraph had six wings. They used two to fly, two to cover their feet, and two to cover their faces (Isaiah 6:2).**
> 
>  
> 
> From Season 4 to the end of Season 5, Castiel was a regular angel, much like Joshua or Uriel. When Lucifer (using Sam as his vessel) snapped his fingers and caused Castiel to explode, God resurrected him and brought him back as a **Seraph.**

 

Castiel had gone over this in his mind a thousand times in the past few weeks. But Dean didn’t know that. Didn’t know about any of Castiel’s inner turmoil, since the whole ‘profound bond’ only went one way.

Maybe if Dean had paid attention to the signs. Let himself believe the things he saw, he could have expected _this_ , instead of what his own mind had cooked up while the angel was gone.

If Dean had paid attention, he would have been able to beat Cas to the punch. Would have been able to do this months- _years_ ago, but now Cas was kissing him; smothering his body against the kitchen counter he’d been frozen to ever since he realized that this whole _‘talk’_ was actually going to happen. But Dean; always the self sabotager, was expecting it to go the opposite way. Expecting Cas to be angry, or not understand.

He wasn’t _expecting_ the angel to basically lunge across the room and mash their lips together.

But hey, _Dean wasn’t going to complain._

It was gone as soon as it’d come, but it still left Dean out of breath. He’d frozen once Cas touched him, not knowing if he was actually going to kiss him or do that weird alpha male thing that’d leave Dean sexually frustrated enough to go find someone willing to help him burn off steam.

Dean’s eyes focused on a worried Castiel, who was staring at him with that kicked puppy look.

“I should go, that was out of line”

Something came over him in that moment. Maybe it was the fear that came with those words, or the thought of Cas disappearing again, but Dean wasn’t going to let it happen. Especially now that he knew Cas felt the same.

“No” his voice was calm, but it was all Dean needed to say to convince himself to grab the front of the rumpled trench coat and pull their bodies back together. He could feel his own heart racing. “Don’t go”

“Are you sure?”

He kissed Cas instead of answering, barely holding back from smiling into the kiss when the angel’s hands found a hold Dean’s waist, or when he nipped at his lower lip. For only having two sexual encounters under his belt, Cas was a _damn_ good kisser.

They broke apart too soon for Dean’s liking. He’d be content with being pinned against the counter for the rest of eternity, as long as Cas was there with him. It didn’t even make sense that they had to take a break for air, since neither of them could really die from that kind of thing. But Dean still didn’t like not having the feeling of fresh air in his lungs. He could get used to it if it meant kissing Cas for an absurd amount of time.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that” Dean mumbled, resting their foreheads together.

“That’s _all_ you wanted to do?” Cas asked, his voice missing that serious tone it usually had.

“Well-” Dean shrugged a bit, leaned back to look at Cas. “s’not the _only_ thing”

Cas grinned, a slow and mischievous one. Dean didn’t remember ever seeing it make an appearance in the years he’d come to know the angel. Cas moved in to kiss Dean before revealing any more details to be learned.  

The Winchester didn’t notice Castiel’s hands moving lower until they were around his thighs, circling and then lifting Dean up on the countertop. Cas didn’t miss a beat, moving down Dean’s neck, leaving soft kisses all the way down to where his skin disappeared underneath his shirt.

“Jesus, Cas, the fuck you learn this shit?”

Castiel stopped and leaned back, a stern look on his face. “Let’s not bring Jesus into this”

Dean flashed a look of worry, confusion, and finally embarrassment. He laughed a bit, reaching out to pull Cas closer again. “Sorry, won’t happen again” the grin stayed.

“It better not” Cas muttered, his eyes moving from Dean’s face to the shirts he was wearing. “You wear too many shirts” he stated, same serious tone of voice.

Dean snorted. “Since when do my clothing choices bother you?”

“Since” Cas pulled the shirt down to suck on Dean’s collarbone. “It takes longer to do this” he pulled a bit harder, letting one, two, three buttons snap apart. His mouth went lower, almost expertly finding the most sensitive points on Dean’s chest. For once in what seemed like a millennia, Dean wasn’t wearing an undershirt. It didn’t take long for the angel to unbutton the rest of the shirt, running his hands over bare skin, mesmerized by the way Dean reacted to just the touch of his fingers.

Cas didn’t waste much time before circling back up to trace his lips against Dean’s jaw, his hands moved on their own, cupping Dean’s ass through his pants and pulling their bodies flush.

“This is hardly fair” Dean stated, his breath uneven

“Really?” Cas muttered against his neck, moving outwards toward his shoulder “and why is that?”

“ _You’re_ wearing more layers than I am” Dean teased-or tried to.

Cas stepped back, almost smirking at the way Dean tried to follow. “Here” the angel gave that same mischievous smile that Dean was already associating with something he’d never expected from Cas. “We’re even now” Cas slipped the trench coat off, throwing it somewhere else. Neither of them saw where it went.

“Still not even” Dean stated, almost pouting, pulling Cas closer by his (suddenly very annoying) shirt. The tie had disappeared weeks ago. Dean pressed his lips to Castiel’s, letting his hands fall down to the angel’s belt. Used it to pull him close again.

Cas let his hands move up Dean’s thighs, rubbing circles into the fabric of his jeans; just outside where Dean was _itching_ to be touched. Then he moved up, back towards Dean’s bare chest. He still had the shirt on, just not buttoned, but Cas didn’t care. As long as he had somewhere to put his hands, he was fine. And this was the most naked Dean had probably ever been in front of him, so he was enjoying it all the same.

The angel went back to Dean’s neck, trailing kisses and bites down his throat, his collarbones. He took his time, studying Dean’s reactions to everything so he could dial in what Dean did and didn’t like. When Cas swirled his tongue around Dean’s nipple, he almost stopped to watch the reaction-Dean sucked a breath of air in, bit his bottom lip, closed his eyes, made this ungodly sound that Castiel wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

“Holy fuck” Dean whispered, more to himself than to Cas.

“Was that a pun?” Castiel asked, pausing to look up at Dean

“No, Cas, nothing that I say is going to make sense if you’re doing- _that_ ” Dean bit his lip, almost shy all of a sudden.

“What?” Cas asked, “this?” he slid his tongue over Dean’s nipple, keeping eye contact. “Or this?” he used his teeth this time; almost grinning when Dean threw his head back and made _that noise_ again.

“Seriously, where the hell did you learn this shit?” Dean huffed out between ragged breaths.

“I didn’t” Cas replied, serious all of a sudden, straightening up to look Dean in the eye.

“A’right, keep your secrets, angel”

Castiel almost preened at the name, liking it a little too much when it came out of Dean’s mouth. So he went back to kissing Dean, letting him lead so he could learn how to use his tongue in even more ways. He really just wanted Dean to enjoy this. And maybe a little of it was because kissing Dean was an _experience_.

Cas let his fingers trace patterns into Dean’s back, then his thighs, just inches away from where they both knew was the point of no return.

 

Dean was rocking into the angel’s touch. No matter what Cas did, it felt better than anything he’d ever felt before. His own hands were preoccupied with twisting dark hair around his fingers, one hand stayed tangled there, the other cradled the angel’s jaw, rubbing with and against the stubble with his thumb.

He didn’t mind being pinned against the counter, but he knew that eventually, they’d either have to stop, or keep going. He wasn’t going to let that happen in the kitchen, no matter how good it felt.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” the angel stopped immediately, leaning back. Dean could feel the angel’s hands falter where they rested.

“We got a bed upstairs y’know” -and they did. He’d gone out and found another one, hating sleeping on the floor after Negan burned the mattresses. He didn’t care what the others thought of his sleeping needs.

Cas just grinned-a wide, genuine one.

He slipped off the counter, suddenly realizing how _badly_ he needed something to be happening. Preferably sans pants.

“What? What is it?”

Dean almost laughed at the concerned look on the angel’s face, but he just grinned, shook his head.

“You’re gonna kill me if you get any better at this shit” Dean replied, sticking a hand in his pocket-the age old trick of adjusting a boner; discreetly.

“I can carry you upstairs” Cas stated, voice deadpan. “If you want”

Dean huffed out a laugh, hiding how much he would actually _like_ that. “I can walk up some stairs, Cas. even _with_ a boner”

“Are you sure about that?” Cas asked, stepping closer. “Because it seems like you’re stalling”

Dean would have said something clever in reply, but Cas was gone, a slight thump upstairs was the only sign of where he went.

Whatever clever reply Dean had lined up was _immediately_ forgotten when he noticed the pile of clothes on the kitchen floor. Cas’s clothes. He wasn’t wearing any clothes. And he was in the bedroom. Waiting for Dean.

He had to repeat the fact in his head a few times, staring down at the pile before realizing that there was a naked angel in his bedroom. Still waiting.

“Fucking-” Dean didn’t even think of doing the whole teleporting thing while getting naked, but he _could_ , get himself to the bedroom in a second or two. So he went.

“Took you long enough” Cas muttered from the bathroom, his head sticking out the doorway a second later.

Dean almost laughed. This was nothing like the way Cas usually acted, but then again, they  didn’t usually get handsy in the kitchen after not seeing each other for a while.

“Sorry I’m not a professional streaker like yourself”

“I don’t know what that means” Cas muttered, turning off the bathroom light with an audible click.

Dean chuckled. There was the angel he knew.

“You still have your clothes on” Cas muttered, still holding the bathroom door in front of himself, peeking through the gap in the doorway.

“And you’re locking yourself in the bathroom” Dean smirked, yanking the shirt off his shoulders and throwing it somewhere he didn’t care about. He was about to see Cas naked.

“The door isn’t locked” Cas muttered, rolling his eyes

“Close enough” Dean joked, pulling his belt free from his jeans, unbuttoning them with slightly shaking fingers.

The jeans hit the floor, and Dean was in his underwear.

“These too?” He asked, looking toward Cas, who looked like he was going to lose his mind for some reason.

“Close enough” Cas mimicked with a smirk, finally moving the bathroom door enough for Dean to see him.

Dean _almost_ said Jesus Christ, but he bit his tongue. The boxers Cas had on weren’t doing much to hide anything with how tented they were. But neither were Dean’s.

“If you wanted a strip tease you shoulda said so” Dean smirked

“You’ll have to show me what that is” Cas stated “I’m sure _you’d_ enjoy one”

Dean got lightheaded at the thought, but it didn’t last long. The angel’s lips were on his again, his hands roaming wherever they could get to.

“I think you _know_ I would” Dean muttered between kisses, pushing Cas backwards toward the bed, lightly shoving his shoulders down once they got there.

Dean had never really done any of this before. He’d had his gay things, but it was never anything long term. He’d never ‘ _been the woman_ ’ or for a better word, bottomed, but he doubted Cas would complain if he straddled him. So he did.

Dean knew how strong the angel was, so he didn’t hold back from sitting in his lap, grinding down, moving from the angel’s lips to his neck, not afraid to leave some hickeys, even if they would heal in seconds.

“Dean”

He stopped, afraid he did something wrong “Yeah?”

“I think I know what you mean by nothing making sense now” Cas replied, that same wild look in his eyes again.

Dean just grinned and went back to sucking hickeys into Cas’s neck, slowly grinding down each time he started a new one. He was rock hard at this point, but he wanted to get Cas riled up. That wild look in his eye was giving him ideas.

He pushed back on Castiel’s shoulders, so he was flat on the bed-except for his legs, which still hung over the edge. Dean made his was back up to kiss Cas before paying attention to the tanned skin at his mercy. He rubbed his hands over the angel’s chest, watching the way the muscles flexed underneath and how Cas kept getting more and more disheveled. Dean’s thumb circled one of the angel’s nipples while he sucked on the other. Cas was making _ungodly_ noises that just made Dean want to get after it, but he could wait, and he was going to leave that part up to Cas.

“Come here” Cas sighed, his voice lower than ever. It sent chills down Dean’s spine. The angel’s hand nudged Dean’s shoulder.

Cas pulled him into another long, drawn out kiss once Dean moved on from his nipples, and Dean couldn’t help but slide their dicks together, reminding them both what was going on.

The angel’s hands slid down, under the waistband of Dean’s boxers, where they came to a stop on his ass. Cas gave an experimental squeeze, and Dean rewarded him with an open mouthed kiss.

“Dean” Cas breathed out “This is torture”

“Tell me what you want” Dean replied, biting at his earlobe, grinding down again. He really didn’t mind the way things were going.

“I want _you_ ” Cas growled, his voice made Dean’s stomach weak.

“So take me”

That was all the angel needed. Really.

Dean found himself flipped on his back, shoulders resting on the pillows at the top of the bed, Cas on top of him, the wild look was back tenfold. “Are you sure?”

“Positive” Dean stated, breathless at the sight. “Except we need lube-and condoms”

Cas blinked, frustrated; sat back on his haunches, still straddling Dean. “Don’t need them”

“Cas, when’s the last time you-” the realization hit that they were both immune to pretty much anything except weapons _made_ to kill them. “-Oh” STDs wouldn’t affect them. Same as the zombie virus. Duh. neither of them would have any.

Cas was just looking at him, waiting. The wild look was diluted with some other emotion. “As for lube, I have that covered”

“You don’t have some weird kind of tentacle dick do you?”

Cas tilted his head. “I-no” he looked like he gave up on any kind of explanation.

“I wouldn’t complain” Dean grinned, tongue resting between his teeth.

“Better not” Cas muttered, still looking unsure.

Dean pulled him back down into another openmouthed kiss, trying to show the angel that he really didn’t care what the fuck he had going on on his pants.

They went on like that for a minute or two, until Dean felt _something_ brush against his leg, and he jerked back, eyes opening in surprise.

“Holy shit”

“Is that another pun?” Cas asked, squinting.

“I-uh-I dunno, maybe?” Dean stated, staring wide eyed at Cas.

“What?”

“Uh”

Cas just moved his head, motioning for Dean to say what he was going to say.

“You have wings”

“I thought you knew this”

“Yeah but they’re-”

Cas leaned back, narrowing his eyes. “They’re what?” almost self conscious

Dean’s eyes were roving over them, taking in the dark feathers and the way they arched across the room “They’re _real_ ” he whispered

“They’ve always been real”

Dean was trying to not start geeking out, since he still wanted Cas to fuck his brains out. He could terrorize him about the wings later.

“They’re-” Dean reached out a hand, grinning when Cas moved one to meet his hand “They’re fucking amazing”

The feathers ruffled and smoothed themselves out, like they had a mind of their own, preening themselves, thankful for the praise. “Thank you, Dean” Cas stated, the gratitude clear in his voice.

“Course, angel” Dean replied, a wide grin on his face. “This is so fuckin’ cool”

Cas rolled his eyes, leaning forward. “Are we going to sit here like this all night?”

“Well, I dunno ‘bout you but I know some other things we can do”

The angel leaned down and closed the gap, meeting Dean’s lips in a soft kiss before moving a hand down to Dean’s boxers.

“You’re sure you’re alright with this?”

Dean nodded. “Definitely”

The angel’s hands were a mixture of soft and rough, and Dean almost lost himself right there. But he didn’t.

“These” Cas tugged on the boxers. “Off. Now.”

Dean shrugged them off, and Cas did the same. He almost stopped breathing at the sight of the angel. He was completely naked, with six goddamn wings and a nice dick.

Cas moved down on the bed so he was straddling Dean’s legs instead of his torso. He ran his hand along Dean’s length a few times before reaching behind him, to the base of one of the wings. His hand returned covered in what looked like lube, but Dean knew what it was from. Cas seemed to know more about it, and he wouldn’t do anything that’d hurt Dean, so he let it happen. Dean trusted Cas with his life on more than one occasion, might as well trust him with his ass.

The first finger was easy enough, and Cas took his time with the prep, focusing all of his attention on Dean. Even using his wings to trace light patterns into Dean’s skin, which was intoxicating. None of it hurt, and Dean didn’t know why it was so different with Cas, but he didn’t say anything. He’d ask later. Probably some angelic bullshit.

Dean writhed around every once in a while,  and finally Cas looked up, a silent question in his eyes.

“Do it-” Dean exhaled slowly “I want this”

Cas nodded, kneeling between Dean’s legs and looping them around his shoulders, pulling Dean to the edge of the bed so he could stand up. The angel paused to give a slow but needy kiss before lining himself up.

Dean let out a small moan, closing his eyes. “Shit-fuck”

“Just let me know if you want me to stop what I’m doing”

Dean snapped his eyes open. “Do not fucking stop” he knew they were black, but he didn’t care, this was too good.

Cas got that wild look in his eye and pushed the rest of the way, stifling his moan. Dean let himself grind down, losing it even more when he heard the noises Cas was trying to stop making.

“Cas”

All he got was a hum in response as the pace sped up a bit.

“I want you to _fuck_ me”

Cas snapped his hips, earning a loud moan from Dean, which must have signaled that it was okay to voice his pleasure, because the angel let out a low growl of his own before picking up the pace, one hand on Dean’s length, the other behind his back. His wings were still tracing their patterns on Dean’s legs and chest.

“There-there, right there” Dean hissed, a low moan following.

Cas kept hitting where he was told, and Dean was losing himself, one hand reaching for his own dick, the other gripping the sheets. Cas leaned forward a bit, planting his hands on either side of Dean, sensing he was getting there too.

Cas came first, Dean not far behind. But Cas still pulled out to start licking up and down Dean’s cock, hollowing his cheeks and making a humming noise around the head. Three fingers teasing at Dean’s prostate.

“Fuck-Cas, I’m there” Dean sounded dazed and out of breath.

Cas didn’t stop just yet, but he did pull his fingers free, focusing on Dean’s cock, making sure he didn’t make too big a mess.

 

They’d been cleaned up for a while, laying with each other in bed, when Dean spoke up, seeming to snap out of the post sex euphoria.

"Cas?" 

"Hmm?" 

“Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?”

“Alaska”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay but how sick would it be if Cas had 6 wings in the show-like the shadow boolshit.  
> anyway its 4am and i have to be awake at 6am so I'll come back and revise tomorrow.  
> if u don't like smut, sorry. this shit just wrote itself kind of.  
> also it was so hard to do dialogue that wasn't like 'JEsUS CHrisT' or 'Oh mY GoD' because that'd how i talk all the time but then my dumbass had to write that one part where Cas is like,,,, don't mention my father while we FUCKIN, Dean.


	14. Cabbage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They stayed in bed much longer than they ever would alone, in silence mostly; enjoying the comfort of each other’s company

Dean woke up happy. Cas was back. They’d fucked, they’d slept in the same bed.

Cas was handsy. Always seeming to have a hand-or wing- somewhere on Dean’s skin, like he was afraid the whole world would slip away. Dean wasn’t going to complain. He loved it.

The angel laid on his stomach, wings arching across the bed, even if they were folded. One traced circles and other things into Dean’s stomach, a constant reminder that he was there. Dean was the only one that slept, so he tried not to be weirded out by the fact that Cas probably watched him sleep the entire night. He wiped at his face, hoping he didn’t drool.

Cas popped his head up when Dean moved, giving away the fact that he was awake.

“Hello, Dean”

“Hey angel” Dean replied, reaching a hand out to smooth the feathers on one of his wings. They felt insane, and he didn’t move his hand away.

Cas propped himself up on his elbows, watching Dean. “you didn’t have any nightmares”

“I guess I didn’t” Dean agreed, knowing that for the first time in a very long time, the Mark hadn’t wormed its way into his mind, giving him visions of killings he had yet to commit.

Cas nodded, his hair a mess-worse than it usually was.

Dean had to touch it, smooth it out. The angel’s hair was softer than he would have ever thought, and Cas leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and making a weird humming noise.

“What, you purr?”

Cas’s eyes snapped open, fixing on Dean. “In heaven, with our true forms, it sounds more like singing”

Dean narrowed his eyes, wondering if Cas was fucking with him. Didn’t seem likely, so he just went back to smoothing out Cas’s hair, probably making it worse than how it started. Dean didn’t care. Cas was still making that noise.

“So you have six wings” Dean stated, still kind of mesmerized at the way they moved. Never too still, but they didn’t move a whole lot. They kind of just floated there, the feathers moving of their own accord.

“I didn’t always” Cas muttered, his eyes still closed. “I was just a regular angel when we met. After Lucifer killed me, God resurrected me and changed my status”

“How come I’m just now seeing them?” Dean asked, switching from the angel’s hair to his wings, which were just as soft.

“I usually keep them hidden. They stay in the same plane as my angel blade when I’m not using it” Cas replied, pushing his wing into Dean’s touch. “I felt that I could trust you around them, especially now”

“Now?” Dean repeated, moving his hands higher to get to more of the wing.

“Now that we’ve come clean”

“About?”

Cas opened one eye, squinted at Dean. “Ourselves” He said it easily, but there was something missing from his voice, like he was doubting something.

“Well, we kind of did, but kind of didn’t” Dean murmured, a shy smile on his lips.

The angel was looking intently at Dean now, his wings completely still, no longer hovering in the air. “Explain” it was half demand, half shy question.

Dean sucked air in through his nose, breathed it out, bit his lip. Focused on smoothing out the feathers that were starting to stick up from worry.

“I uh-you’re really gonna make me say it?” Dean asked, half embarrassed, half exasperated.

“I’m not going to invade your thoughts and just _take_ the information” Cas replied, looking more and more worried by the second. Like he was afraid Dean was gonna say ‘okay, we’ve had our fun, let’s never do this again’ or something along those lines. He could never do that. Not to Cas

Dean blew more air through his nose, reminded himself of the importance of chick flick moments, as hated as they were. He met the angel’s eyes. “I love you”

Cas lit up, his feathers smoothing out and doing that floaty thing again.

“What? You aren’t gonna say it back now?” Dean teased, knowing that Cas felt the same after seeing how much his words affected him. Those wings of his were really bad at giving away what he was _really_ feeling. He ignored the alarms screaming ‘ _chick flick moment_ ’ in the back of his mind. He really didn’t need to hear it; he knew. This was one of the few times he was actually _okay_ with being upfront about his feelings.

Cas pushed himself up on the bed so their faces were a few inches apart. “You’ve made my life better in the time I’ve known you.” the angel glanced down at Dean’s lips. “I think you already know that I _do_ , in fact, love you”

Dean smiled into the kiss, enjoying how sappy the whole thing was. He was happy. He had the only thing he’d ever wanted; which was to be honest with Cas.

They stayed in bed much longer than they ever would alone, in silence mostly; enjoying the comfort of each other’s company. Cas would get lost in the expanse of Dean, wanting to learn every part of the man he’d fallen from grace for.

Castiel’s wings were Dean’s new favorite thing to touch. He couldn’t keep his hands off of them, obsessed with the way they shone in the light, curving into his touch like they had a mind of their own.

“What’s it feel like?” Dean asked, breaking the silence.

“What’s what feel like?”

“Having wings, that are like-connected to your body” Dean stated, ripping his gaze from the feathers to Castiel’s face. He’d grown tired of propping himself up ages ago, so he just laid next to Dean, his hands tracing constellations in the freckles scattered across his skin, his head resting on Dean’s shoulder.

“I don’t feel them all that often” Cas mused. “They aren’t usually visible, so I forget they’re there most of the time” he let one of the wings trail up the middle of Dean’s chest. “Which is most likely a good thing, as they can be sensitive”

Dean had idea after idea within seconds of hearing the words come out of the angel’s mouth. “Sensitive how?”

Cas looked away, feathers slicking back. He shrugged, trying to play it off, but Dean knew better, even without the wings to gauge emotions off of.

Dean watched Castiel’s face for any signs of him being pissed off, and let his hand follow the arch of his wing, brushing the feathers softly. It wasn’t until he reached the scapular, where feathers turned to skin, that Cas gave a reaction.

He massaged his fingers around the joint, watching how the angel reacted. And Cas did. He definitely did. The angel huffed out short but heavy gasps of air, and that humming noise was back in his throat.

“Dean-” Cas muttered, his eyes pinched shut, his mouth slightly open.

Dean took that moment to push himself up and straddle Cas’s back, which gave him easy access to the wings. He let his fingers trail up the sides of the angel’s back before reaching the outermost pair of wings, where he alternated between deep circles and the lightest touch he could muster.

“You like that, angel?” Dean almost purred, his mouth on the back of Castiel’s shoulder, biting softly and moving on to his neck.

The angel’s wings were shaking a bit, curling towards Dean. Cas was moaning into the pillows, the noise echoing deep inside his chest to where Dean could feel it.

Dean planted a few kisses down the angel’s spine, stopping when he had the thought that he was going to end up with feathers in his mouth. Instead he went back to intently massaging the bases of the wings, using the oil from the preening glands to smooth out the ruffled feathers, working his way up the base, towards the primary feathers.

He grew tired of the combing motion, having done it all morning, so he went back to kissing the skin where it met the wings. But not before collecting more of the oil and pulling Cas so his back was flush against Dean’s chest.

His hand made its way under the waistband of the boxers, taking his time in stroking up the length of the angel’s already hard cock. Dean took his time, doing to Cas what he usually did to himself, almost grinning at the way the angel leaned back, his hips lazily following the motion of Dean’s hand.

“That’s it” Dean whispered, half to himself and half to Cas, “that’s my angel” He definitely didn’t miss the way Cas lit up during the past few times he’d been called angel. “Come for me” he rested his head on the angel’s shoulder, licking and biting whatever places he could get to.

“Dean-” Cas’s voice was ragged with want, and he leaned farther back against Dean, stretching his head back, giving better access to his neck, letting Dean continue to do what he wanted. “-Fuck”

The word sounded foreign coming out of Castiel’s mouth, but it drove Dean over the edge, letting him move back down to focus on the base of Castiel’s wings, which earned the demon a few _loud_ moans.

Dean’s other hand was on his own cock, but he wasn’t worried about himself. His attention was trained on the angel’s every move.

Cas came all over the boxers he’d put on before collapsing into bed the night before, which wasn’t an issue. There’d be other pairs. But when Dean collapsed back on the bed, Cas was there in a moment, kissing his way down Dean’s chest, towards his own tented boxers that were bound to be ruined as well.

“You don’t have to” Dean stated, watching the way Cas kissed his way across the skin, tracing his tongue across old scars from hunting accidents and the like.

Cas looked up through thick eyelashes. “I want to” he stated, voice low with that wanton look in his eyes before putting his mouth over the fabric.

Dean hissed out a slow breath, laying back against the bed while Cas started pulling the boxers down _oh so slowly_ until his cock was free and at attention.

Dean tried to watch, but couldn’t find the strength to hold himself up after catching a glimpse of Cas with his mouth full, one hand doing something _amazing_ and the other splayed across Dean’s stomach, keeping him pinned to the bed.

 

It was over far too soon than Dean would have liked, but he knew that it was probably for the best. If they kept it up, they might never leave the house again. And Dean needed to catch up for lost time, which wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

They weren’t in any rush.

 

 

It was a few hours past daybreak when the knocking started. Dean tried ignoring it, but it just got louder and more persistent.

They’d closed all the curtains, since Dean didn’t feel like staying in bed all day. Instead, he moved to the couch. Stared at the TV. It wasn’t plugged in. Cas wanted to keep his wings in the plane his vessel was in, muttering something about it getting uncomfortable after a while. So he was shirtless in the kitchen. That was why Dean was staring at a blank TV screen.

The angel was a damn magnet for Dean.; so he didn’t look.

When the knocking started, they shared a panicked glance, but didn’t hear the rumble of trucks flooding the streets, so it wasn’t anything to do with Negan.

“ _Dean! Open the damn door!_ ” it was Carl’s voice.

Sighing, he heaved himself up, his bones creaking with the effort. He hated that goddamned couch.

“This better be good” he called back, making his way down the hallway. Looked back and made sure Cas was out of sight. He was.

Carl’s fist was poised to pound on the door again when Dean yanked it open. “About time” he muttered, stepping inside, knowing that Dean didn’t like talking where he could be seen by anyone on the street. He’d become a recluse since the world went to shit. “Someone dropped this at the gate for you”

Dean narrowed his eyes, took the gift bag that was offered to him. It was gaudy, covered in a bedazzled pattern owned by the Marvel franchise. Loki. of course.

“You know who it’s from?”

Dean opened the bag, almost recoiling at the sight of the head of lettuce and vinaigrette dressing. “Gross” he muttered, pulling it out to see that what looked to be three dozen suckers at the bottom of the bag. “Gabe left a shitty present” he muttered, more to himself than Carl.

“Who’s Gabe?” Carl asked, looking between Dean and the bag, like it was going to explode.

“Cas’s brother” he muttered.

“There are more angels?” Carl asked, “I thought they all went back to Heaven”

Dean shook his head. “Gabe doesn’t play by the rules”

There was a crash in the kitchen, and quiet swearing. Dean didn’t look up, he was trying to make out the note on the bag’s handle. Enochian, of course. He didn’t remember most of what it meant.

“Is someone here?” Carl asked, his hand reaching for the gun at his hip.

“Yeah-” Dean was still trying to make out what it meant. “Cas showed up”

“Does he-need help?” Carl asked, still looking towards the kitchen, like he didn’t believe what Dean just told him.

“Cas! You need help with something?” he shouted, looking towards the kitchen. “There’s a stool under the sink or something”

Cas stuck his head around the corner, a scowl on his face. “You didn’t say anything about Gabriel being around.” he muttered, glaring at the demon.

“It’s been like, twelve hours and I was _distracted_ ” Dean shot back. “Claire was with him too”

There was another crash behind Cas, and the angel didn’t look to see what it was. Dean knew it was from his wings moving from the surprise.

“Claire is _alive_?”

“Yeah” Dean muttered. “Would you tell me what the fuck this says?” Dean held the note up, “I can’t remember what half this shit means”

Cas didn’t move, but held an arm out.

“You know I’m not like, a kid, right?” Carl asked. “I’ve seen naked dudes before”

Dean snorted, and Cas didn’t move from his place in the kitchen.

“Unless he’s completely naked” Carl rushed out, seeing the way Cas was looking between Dean and the note.

Cas shook his head but came out from behind the wall, wearing black jeans but no shirt, wings out of sight-probably back in that weird plane they went to. Dean handed him the note, ignoring the look on Carl’s face.

“When did you see them?” Cas asked, looking from the note to Dean.

“Day you left for your Alaskan vacation” Dean muttered. “Said they saw Sam and Jodi”

Cas nodded and read the note, his face twisting into an unreadable emotion.

Carl looked like he didn’t know where he wanted to be- either in the know or just out of the loop completely.

“Gabriel says he has an idea”

“Lot there for that little information” Dean replied, glancing down at the paper.

“It’s explaining his plan.” Cas muttered, scrunching his face up more. “Doesn’t sound like it’ll work”

“we’re professionals at making things work that shouldn’t” Dean muttered

“You said that last time, and now look where we are” Cas glanced up, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah whatever” Dean muttered. “Ninety percent success rate”

“You guys are like a different breed” Carl muttered, looking between the two.

“Angel and a demon, so we kind of are” Cas replied, folding the paper in half. “Gabe says he’s with Sam, by the way”

Dean stared at the bag. “I dunno about this”

“He said the cabbage was a joke” Cas stated, taking it. “They both know you won’t touch it.”

“Anything in there about Claire?”

“Gabe called her a mini version of you, but more angry”

“Great, we’re gonna have a serial killer on our team” Dean joked. Only he wasn’t. Well, kind of. Claire scared him a bit.

“Who’s Claire?” Carl asked.

Dean smirked at Carl, giving him a look, but Cas spoke first. “My daughter-kind of”

Carl just looked between the two of them, eyebrows raised.

“His vessel’s kid” Dean muttered. “Almost _his_ vessel”

“I wasn’t right in the head” Cas muttered, shooting him a glare.  

“Uh huh. Posessed a twelve year old for shits and giggles”

Cas glared harder, and Dean could tell he was getting pissed.

“Alright, fine, whatever dude” Dean blurted, holding his hands out. “We won’t talk about it”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why i keep writing porn.  
> I'll have more shit that's actually relevant to the plot soon-hopefully. idk. I'm in the middle of a three day music festival and got drunk yesterday so i'm dropping this here before going back to camp to suffer with the aftermath of my stupid decisions.  
> for some reason i ended up at a makeshift strip club and i punched somebody in the face for talking shit and ended up in a whole ass fight.
> 
> 11/25/19 add on:  
> I got writer's block this summer and i'm sure this hasn't been seen by that many new people since i think there's an algorithm that helps people find active fics so if youre reading this, you probably either bookmarked it or found it by searching for this kinda fic. I started college back up and since the new season came out, i've stayed away from my spn Instagram account, so i wasn't feeling that inspired. -because i can't watch the new season until it's on netflix and nobody uses spoiler warnings anymore. so i kinda just quit writing fic and my other writing's suffered as well. I'm going to try and update this soon, but this shit's hARD. also I've forgotten literally everything i wrote so i have to reread all 72 pages of my google doc to catch myself back up. also i go through phases of either being disgusted by all smut or fine with it, and i forgot how much porn i put in here. lately I've been sick of smutty shit and just want happy bullshit. Maybe i'm stuck in the NNN mindset. idk. nobody's gonna read this until I update so idk why i'm adding it here. maybe it'll change the 'last updated' thing and get a bunch of new people around to disappoint. who knows. also my vape just died and I'm too dependent on nocotine to just leave it dead so I'm gonna end this here-see y'all in the next one.
> 
> second update-changing the author's note didn't change the last updated thing in case y'all were wondering because i know the future's gonna happen and people are gonna read this later on.


End file.
